Clair de Lune
by Black Family Scribe
Summary: "The Lily and Narcissa...The hands of fate change with one meeting."
1. Prologue

_**Prologue:**_

_**La Clémence de Lis, Vie de Narciss'a**_

"_**Lily's Mercy, Narcissa's Life"**_

Routine. That would be the word Lily would choose to describe her day. It was surprising how routine and repetitive her life had become in the recent months. It was true she was a skilled Auror, it was true she had confronted Voldemort three times and survived all encounters, it was also true that she was the best dueler in the entire Auror Task Force. But it did not matter to Bartemius Crouch Sr. No, the fact that she was a woman seemed to qualify her for the dull low-risk jobs that all of the fairer sex had been assigned to recently. Lily was certain she would have gone barmy with her frustration at not being able to be on the front lines with her husband if it had not been for the duties assigned to her by the Order.

At least then she felt useful, the restless ache in her to act quieted. The guilt she felt every time reports came to her of deaths she thought she could have prevented had she been there lessened. Lily paused at that thought and almost laughed as her husband's words when she'd told him of those thoughts repeated themselves in her mind.

_Really Lily-flower, and you call me arrogant. You know very well you can't save everyone, no matter how hard you try, love._

Yes, that was just like her arrogant toe-rag of a husband, she thought fondly. And then he would make her laugh at some folly of Sirius's when they'd gone through training or something particular stupid they'd done as kids that was only funny now. James always could make me laugh, she thought dully as her fingers unconsciously ran through her long red hair. It was a habit she'd picked up from James halfway through their engagement and he would never let her live it down.

_Lily-flower I am astonished at you! Such hypocrisy! _He'd accuse with a playful glint in his bright hazel eyes. _You always told me what an arrogant git I was for daring to mess up my lovely locks for the ladies' enjoyment, but now, you, my lovely Lily, mocks me with the very some gesture. It's appalling, truly appalling._

Lily sighed, a bit of mist trailing from her mouth in the chilled September air. Dawlish and Mickey, her permanent partners didn't even bother looking up at the somber sigh that the red head gave, making Lily suspect that she may have done it a bit more than absolutely necessary. Snorting at her on depressed state Lily sped up to keep pace with the younger girl and much older man. Looking over them Lily realized how odd a team they made.

Mickey was twenty, but could easily pass for a Hogwarts First Year she was so small and innocent looking, with short blonde her, wide brown eyes, and a round sweet face. Yet under her apparent sweetness Mickey held a viciousness that rivaled even Bellatrix Lestrange at times. Her cold brown eyes and penchant for torturing information out of anyone who so much as sold shoes to suspected Death Eaters sent shivers down Lily's spine. The woman was disturbed and Lily was more afraid of her than of any Death Eater. To make matters worse Mickey knew it and enjoyed the fear and pain she would occasionally branch out to her comrades. Lily suspected that had Mickey not been a Muggleborn, Voldemort would have allowed her into his inner circle.

Dawlish on the other hand was an older man of few words, but high intelligence. He was much more merciful than Mickey, but only when his orders allowed it. He sometimes reminded Lily of an old weathered robot, following orders exactly and never breaking any rules. Dawlish seemed to find their new, harsher orders almost as disdainful as Lily found them, but that didn't make him hesitate to AK a seventeen year old, bearing Voldemort's mark two months ago. Lily still had nightmares of the terrified child's face as the man didn't so much as blink as he killed him.

No, Lily was not fond of her comrades, but she would work with them. She had no choice really.

As they walked up the path to the house they were investigating Lily's honed senses tingled. She tensed slightly and caught Mickey's attention with a small movement of her hand. With rapid sign language Lily reported what she'd felt. Apparations, lots of them. And wards, not the normal ones that the paranoia of war called for. Disguised under the seemingly innocent spell works was something else. Something that alerted those inside when those with the lingering magical signature of Aurors came to call.

Suddenly it didn't seem so routine anymore.

…

Narcissa wasn't sure what was wrong with Jessamine. Her friend had been twitchy her entire visit and had barely reacted when she was told about the baby. In fact every time Narcissa's blue eyes narrowed over her tea cup in focused concentration on her eldest friend the woman's gaze was always straying away or glancing at the door worriedly. So when Jessamine stiffened and told Narcissa to hide, the blonde woman was not incredibly surprised. She was however surprised by, while in the process of being taken to her hiding place she ran into not only her brother-in-law, but several other men she'd heard about from Lucius.

Narcissa paled considerably realizing what her naivety to her friend's activities had gotten her into. Narcissa was in a safe house for Death Eaters. Jessamine was either one and had never told her or was very, very closely tied into their work. And there was going to be a raid.

"Jessamine, I have to go, I can't take chances hiding!" Narcissa protested struggling out of her friend's grip and reaching for her wand. Jessamine smiled at her sadly and shook her head, green eyes somber and glittering.

"It's too late, they've already placed the wards. I'm sorry Narcissa, I'm so sorry," Jessamine whispered quietly and Narcissa felt a bit of panic clench her heart tight. And her friend, her oldest and most trusted friend, looked in her eyes and told her what was equivalent to a Death sentence. "They have Bloody Mary with them."

Narcissa's heart stopped for one nightmarish, panicked second, that felt like an eternity as Jessamine's words sank in. Bloody Mary, a moniker worn by Mary Anne Mickey, named thusly, by those who would tremble in terror at the thought of Bloody Mary visiting their homes. She was worse than anyone in the war, preying on both sides if you so much as gave an inclination that you had talked to one who was now a Death Eater. She was also infamous for her hobby for infanticide. Nobody outside of Death Eater families knew that it had been Bloody Mary responsible for those deaths, but the grisly demise of the infants had set a fire ablaze in those who even mildly supported the Dark Lord. They all wanted Bloody Mary dead and until she was, the woman wouldn't hesitate to 'cleanse' the world of 'Death Eater spawn'.

Narcissa's knees buckled and her mind went blank. She didn't even realize Jessamine and Rabastan Lestrange were supporting her as her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. She would die. They would kill her and her baby. Narcissa trembled as her breathing became harsher and harsher. Dimly she heard a soothing male voice cooing calming words to her as a hand stroked her temple comfortingly. I won't let her, Narcissa vowed; I won't let that bitch touch my child. Narcissa took a calming breath, still shaking lightly and jerked realizing Rabastan had been rocking her slightly and stroking her in a way that was indeed not appropriate for a married woman to condone. But when she looked into his eyes she did not see anything, but concern and brotherly affection. Besides his efforts were calming and not too inappropriate, so she would let it slid this time.

"We won't let her near you," Jessamine vowed as Rabastan helped Narcissa to her feet. Rabastan nodded and Narcissa relaxed slightly. Something about his strong form and determined eyes helped relax her a little. After all this was Rabastan, her childhood playmate, who'd always played Bride and Groom with her as a child. Jessamine's lover and fiancé. He wouldn't let her or her baby be harmed.

Narcissa hid, her pride stinging lightly as she did, in the back of a closet. Pulling her knees to her chest the woman wrapped her arms loosely around her knees, wand clutched tight in her fist as her eyes stayed trained on the door. She believed her friends would protect her with all they had, but that did not mean she would not curse the first stranger to dare walk into this room. It wasn't just her life at stake anymore. Her eyes darkened at the thought and she began listing the worst curses her sister had taught her, starting with the Unforgivables.

…

Lily panted as she ran through the halls her nostrils burning with the scent of smoke and charred flesh. She cursed Mickey for her foolishness. The woman had set the house ablaze, to burn the Death Eaters. With the wards in place it wasn't likely they'd get out. But that cold _bitch_ had done it, while Lily was still inside. Coughing she stumbled tripping over something in the semi-darkness. Damn Mickey for causing this. Damn Dawlish for not stopping her. Damn Voldemort for starting this whole bloody mess. And damn the ministry for assigning her the _low-risk_ job. Low-risk her lily white ass! Her psychotic coworker was going to burn her alive, how's that for low risk!

Lily threw open another door hoping to discover a window she could break, but instead was greeted with a familiar green curse. Without thinking the woman dove to the side and perform a silent _Expelliramus_ causing the wand to jerk from her opponents unsuspecting hands. Jumping to her feet Lily stared down who had just tried to kill her and her eyes widened in shock. There on the ground blue eyes fierce and defiant, crouched Narcissa Malfoy, disheveled and panting. The woman glared at Lily slowly getting to her feet as her eyes flickered around the closet looking for an escape. Seeing none the woman looked towards Lily and sneered.

Lily had always dislike Narcissa and she could have very well left the woman to rot for all she cared. If she hadn't saw how Narcissa cradled her slightly bulging stomach protectively. Oh god she's pregnant, Lily realized startled. It made sense now, her reason for hiding. Horrified Lily realized that the dark rumors she'd heard about Mickey had to be true if it had caue the proud, vain Narcissa Black, now Mlfoy, to cower in a closet. If she sees her Narcissa is dead. She and her baby are dead. Lily's stomach clenched as she looked at this ragged woman. She couldn't honestly say she would feel incredibly awful about Narcissa being taken in, but the mere thought of an unborn child, an innocent babe, being killed, while still in the womb repulsed her more than anything. In that quick tense moment when Lily Potter stared into the hard blue eyes of Narcissa Malfoy she made a decision that would effect everything to come.

"Follow me if you want your baby to live," And without hesitation the woman turned and resumed her search. Lily was starting to panic slightly as her search kept proving fruitless. Her mind sent images of her death, of Narcissa's death, of James alone and grieving-

"The kitchen is down the next hall, I think there's a window," an oddly cool voice said behind her. Looking over her shoulder emerald eyes met blue and Lily followed Narcissa's instructions. She almost cried out with relief at the sight of the small window. Narcissa stumbled behind her and unease spread through the younger woman. The smoke could not be good for either Narcissa or the baby. She needed to get out now. Taking a deep breath Lily didn't bother looking for something to break the glass and simply vanished it. Smiling grimly she couldn't help, but think. Damn I love magic.

"You go first," Lily ordered and the blonde woman clumsily walked past her and to the window. Narcissa was able to get up to her abdomen out, but the already slight baby fat she was carrying prevented her escape. Lily's veins went cold as she heard a loud woosh of hot air behind her. They did not have time for this.

"Damn it Narcissa suck in!" Lily shouted pushing the blonde from behind. The woman snarled something unintelligible at her, that Lily was certain was certainly nothing you would say in polite comapny, and squirmed. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the woman twisted and turned forcing her body through and pulling herself out. By the time Narcissa rolled out onto the ground below the fire was burning outside the door and Lily didn't bother being careful. Thanking every god and goddess for her slenderer, and less endowed body the slight woman easily managed to escape and pulled Narcissa to her feet.

"Come on we have to get you past the wards so you can Apparate home." The red head ordered her nerves fried and her voice hard and rough from the smoke. The blonde didn't comment on the coarseness, but followed obediently behind. Lily's shoulders slumped down in exhaustion.

I'm going to kill Mickey when I get my hands on the heartless bitch, Lily thought viciously. She almost killed me and she's a known baby murderer.

…

Narcissa was tired. Tired, frustrated, and furious. But mostly she was relieved. She'd lived. Her baby had lived. And it was all thinks to Lily Potter. Looking up at the slight red head anger curled in the older woman's stomach as lessons she'd learned from infancy ran through her mind.

_Black's must always pay their debts, we do not leave anyone with power over us._

I owe this woman a Life Debt, Narcissa's mind screeched in protest. I, Narcissa Black Malfoy, owe a Muggleborn a Life Debt for me and my child! I'll never pay it back, she realized despairingly. I'll be trapped by this for the rest of my life until I give this woman sufficient payment. But what is equal to my first born? Narcissa's reverie was broken as the red head paused and turned to look at her with those impossibly green eyes.

"You can Apparate from here," Lily told her quietly and waited clearly expecting some sort of thank you. Narcissa almost sniffed in disdain, but couldn't bring herself to when the crashing weight of what she owed this woman hit her.

"I will repay you," Narcissa said calmly. Lily's eyes flickered with surprise and Narcissa turned snatching her offered wand and Apparating on the spot. She would find away to do it. Even if it meant going against every teaching her parents had taught her. Even if she had to work the rest of her life following Lily Potter's every foot step. She would find a way.

The Hands of Fate change with one meeting…


	2. 1

_**Chapter One:**_

_**Nouvelle Vie**_

"_**New Life"**_

Draco always knew something was different about him and his family. It wasn't just the fact they'd served the Dark Lord, a great man from what father's fiends would tell him sometimes when Mother wasn't around. Or that they were Malfoy's and pureblooded for generations. No, what made Draco's family different was Harry Potter.

It was true Draco had always heard stories about the boy, who'd been so instrumental in the Dark Lord's downfall, but they'd always been different from the ones the Parkinsons' nursemaid told Pansy or that Bête, known to the rest of the world as Blaise Zabini, were told. His mother would always tell him the stories of the Dark Lord's defeat with a grave, sobriety that had always stuck out to him. At the end she would always given the same warning, her blue eyes glowing with some emotion his younger mind didn't understand.

"You must learn your lessons well and always obey your Father and I." She would say, and then smile sadly. "But above all else you must not go near him. You must avoid the green eyed boy with untidy black hair."

As a result Draco's young mind had always clung to Harry, wondering about this mysterious boy who his mother feared and his father would stutter around when he was mentioned. So he'd snuck away from his parents in Diagon Alley sneaking glimpses of books written on him. Learning the theories of how he survived and finding each more ridiculous then the next. Nothing seemed reliable, each ending with saying that truthfully they knew nothing about how he survived. Eventually Draco grew frustrated and bitterly gave up his quest to learn of the boy. But then, while studying his lessons on his family trees, something every Malfoy and Black heir was supposed to memorize he found something unexpected.

His aunt Dorea Black Potter had married a man named Charlus Potter having one son with him. A son named James. Stunned by his discovery Draco had scoured their library until he'd found one of the books his mother had added to its collection with her dowry. It was a book showing the Black lineage back to even before the Norman Conquest and was magically in tune with the Black family blood updating itself anytime anyone with their blood was born. With a trembling hand Draco had looked up Dorea Black Potter a line connected her to Charlus Potter, directly below them was James Potter who married Lily Evans Potter. His eyes widened when he saw the fresh spindly drawn golden line going pointing towards their child.

Harry James Potter

July 31, 1980-Present

"Harry is your blood kin Draco, a third cousin. He is a direct male descendent of the Black name, just like you. His Grandmother was my great-aunt Dorea." His mother had told him, not meeting his eyes, instead staring down at the book she'd been reading when Draco burst in. The recently ten year old boy froze confused and scared. He didn't know why he was scared just that he was. Avoiding his cousin, his blood? It didn't make sense. Why was his mother breaking one of his most important lessons?

"B-but, we never abandon family." He parroted, making his mother almost flinch as he told her the words he'd heard since he was old enough to walk. "We never abandon family, it comes before everything else. We will out, because we are one." His mother wouldn't even look at him as she told him quietly, so quietly her words had barely carried across the great expanse between them. Enormous with the sheer size of her secret that went against everything he'd been taught.

"Not always Draco, not always. Sometimes we lose those most important." She told him quietly, and closed her eyes as she told him something that shocked him almost more than his revelation had. "I had a sister, another one beside your Aunt Bellatrix, her name was Andromeda. I loved her very much, but when she was in her seventh year she started dating a boy. He had no name, no status, and a penniless pauper."

She looked up at her son face taut with pain. "He was a Muggleborn, named Ted Tonks. Andy told Bella and me about him. She should have known better." Narcissa's hands tightened on the arm rest of her chair, her knuckles we white from her tight grip. Draco's mind was blank.

"Bella and her fought over it for a year, but when Andy told us she intended to marry Ted and to hell with tradition Bella was furious. She told Mother and Aunt Walburga. Mother was horrified and tied to convince her to change her mind. Aunt Walburga slapped her. Slapped a Black." His mother's voice wavered eyes distant, back in the room watching her sister's shame. A chill ran down Draco's back at the thinly veiled fury and hurt in his mother's eyes. "Even Bella was shocked, but Andy just stood there back straight, eyes dry and told us she would marry Ted Tonks and that she'd had enough of this family. She left that day and Aunt Walburga blasted her off the family tree."

Draco was silent and his mother looked at him. After a few moments she seemed to calm and her naked emotions that made him flinch from their intensity were hidden away as she spoke in a dull voice.

"Andy had a daughter. She named her Nymphadora, kept the traditions even though she was disowned. I only saw her once, Draco. I've only seen my niece once in her entire life. It was right after the war had ended. Your father was speaking to the Ministry, making sure they dropped all of the charges and some Aurors went after him. They were furious that nobody could prove your father had done anything. Lucius would never admit it, but he would have been hurt, badly if they'd had the chance to attack him. Nobody would have stepped in. We were hated universally and completely." His mother's eyes looked through him once more and Draco felt a stab of something odd, a mixture of pain and jealousy. He'd always been the center of his parents'. To have his mother speak so intensely about someone else made him, feel hurt, envious that somebody could mean so much to her despite not even knowing his mother.

"Nymphadora stopped them, she was fifteen at the time, interning with a Ministry officer to decide rather she wanted to work there or not. She knew who Lucius was and stepped between them. She told them if they wanted him they'd have to get through her first. The Aurors knew her father and apparently respected him, so they left. Left because my half-blood niece, who wasn't even acknowledged as family protected us!" Narcissa gave a cold humorless laugh that was somehow more painful to hear than anything else. "When she looked at us I knew she hated me. Hated me more than any of the others. But she was a Black, a true Black despite the taint of her father's blood and family comes first. She didn't say one word to us, didn't ask for thanks, she just left, left after giving me a look of such venom…I shouldn't have been hurt by it, but I was. I had never expected for my favorite sister's daughter to look at me like that. I loved your aunt, she was my hero, but when her girl looked at me liked that it made me realize…" Narcissa paused seeming to search for the right words. Draco wanted to tell her to stop, that he didn't want to hear these horrible words, but she continued anyway.

"It made me realize that sometimes family leaves you." Draco had left after this, practically ran from the painful silence.

He was confused by his mother's story. All he wanted to know was about Harry Potter, the mystery boy, but instead he'd heard his mother's confusing tale. If Nymphadora had protected his father didn't that only prove his lessons? But his aunt, the one he hadn't even known existed before then had betrayed his mother. Betrayed everything that it meant to be a Black, a pureblood, her entire heritage thrown away for some Muggleborn. His mind almost couldn't wrap itself around it. That a well off pureblood witch, his own aunt, could lower herself to do something…something so horrid. So Draco let it drop, hid his mother's story away deep in his heart. Along with the part that had been so curious about Harry Potter. All he knew was he'd hurt his mother by bringing it up. He'd let his curiosity die. He'd listen to what his parents said, following these words of wisdom exactly. He would ignore the occasional whisper from the pureblood Ladies, who would fall back on old gossip like his Aunt Andromeda, when gossip was scarce. But most importantly he would never forgive Harry Potter for it.

Somewhere along the line, his feelings had mangled together with his mother's pain, his confusion and hurt, the story and he'd connected it all to Harry. He didn't care if it made no sense, he felt it. He couldn't help all he felt and he couldn't unwind the tight confused ball of his feelings he'd hidden away deep in himself. He swore to never think about it again. That is not until now.

…

"Draco, darling, could you pass the marmalade?" His mother questioned making a fidgeting Draco Malfoy jump slightly as he hurried to comply. His mother gave him a soft amused smile, but Draco didn't notice he was preoccupied with other things.

It would be today he knew it would. The day he got his letter. Ever since his eleventh birthday he'd been rising in the mornings trembling with anticipation as his anxiety peaked when they had breakfast. Watching worriedly each day as the owls delivered mail, first the small brown barn owl from the Prophet, then anyone of the large expensive owls his mother's and father's friends sent, always waiting for one of those calm elegant owls bearing the letter written in emerald ink. But always he'd be disappointed and his heart would plummet convinced he would shame the family and not be enrolled. Then the anxiety would begin again steadily growing as he convinced himself it would be the next day only to be disappointed once more.

It had gotten so bad that Lucius had jumped up one day after Draco had sighed morosely, more loudly than he'd intended, and demanded an owl so he could write to Hogwarts and ask rather or not Draco was in. Draco had convinced his father not to flushing a slight pink, hot with embarrassment. From then on he'd suffered in silence. He probably could have borne it better if he hadn't felt the tension and slight horror that surrounded his parents each time Hogwarts was mentioned. It was as if they thought he would die as soon as he stepped foot in the castle and were trying to avoid the subject and enjoy the time they had left.

Draco of course knew why his parents were so edgy. It was the exact something that cast a taint on his own grand dreams of his schooling. The same thing that he'd skittered around thinking for over a year. What was never mentioned in his home along with the War and Aunt Andromeda. Harry Potter. Draco's own flesh and blood. The mere thought of the boy, who he'd never met, who'd done nothing to _deserve_ his hate, made Draco furious. And now the boy was spoiling what was supposed to be one of the best things of Draco's life. He was the reasons his mother's face would tighten and she'd grip whatever she was holding with force enough to break a few glasses. He was the reason his father would freeze when the owls came, looking at a newspaper his eyes immobile until he knew there were no letters for Draco.

Draco shied away from these thoughts, head snapping up at the familiar soft sound of wing beats. His heart froze as an unfamiliar owl entered and slowly began to descend. Right in front of him. He couldn't stop the wide grin that spread on his face as he took the letter form the owl. Looking down at it he felt something in him relax. Emerald ink and the crest. He'd done it. He was going to Hogwarts. Draco closed his eyes and hid his grin, waiting for his euphoria to become manageable so he could deliver the good news with the proper decorum and dignity expected of him.

"F-Father," he said biting his lip when his voice shook and sounded a bit airy. His father didn't scold, but instead looked at him with questioning gray eyes. Draco had to resist squirming at the tension in the room and the looks on his parents' faces, half expecting, half worried. Everyone knew that there was no _guarantee_, not even for the oldest purebloods, that their child would definitely get into Hogwarts.

Draco swallowed, and continued despite his dry throat. "It's my Hogwarts letter."

The snap of the tension was almost audible as the inhabitance gave a great sigh. For a moment Draco wasn't sure rather to be offended by his parents' apparent lack of faith or euphoric over his accomplishment. Deciding on the later the boy allowed a small grin that still hinted at the innocence of childhood. But even as his mother hugged him and his father ruffled his hair fondly in a way that he hadn't in years Draco sensed the same dread he'd felt all summer. For once he ignored it eager to enjoy his family before his unavoidable meeting with _him_.

…

Draco was more than a little uncomfortable. Shifting slightly he bit his lip to hold back a yelp as Madam Malkin's assistant's needle dug into the soft skin of his thigh. The woman looked up glaring at him accusingly. He returned it bristling. He was the one who kept being gouged by _her_ inept needle. And he'd only moved a smidge. The woman huffed and muttering under her breath, no doubt curses against him, she continued her work. Draco sneered down at her, but stopped as soon as he glimpsed himself in the mirror.

He'd thought he'd gotten his father's sneer down, but one look at his expression was enough to make his cheeks flush a pale pink in embarrassment. Angry that he'd revealed he was embarrassed to a snobbish low-class witch—_who stabbed him again, the wretched cow—_Draco glowered at his reflection as he examined it, trying to decide where he went wrong. His hair was an attractive shade of white-blond, just like his father's, impeccably styled without a strand out of place. He was pale, not an ugly ghost white, but rather smooth fair skin. A very attractive coloring if he said so himself. His pointed features were like his father's, but he had his mother's sharp cheek bones. He of course knew he was good looking as all Malfoy's were supposed to be, but sometimes his angular features rather reminded him of a ferret or a fox. Not, as the Bête claimed, like a weasel. No Malfoy looked like an animal that was practically a synonym for Weasley.

But what stood out most about Draco, what always grabbed his attention were his eyes. At first they looked the standard gray that could have come from either side of the family. But when you looked closer you could see the difference. There barely visible around the pupil were miniscule flecks of green. Draco loathed these specks and liked to think of his eyes of plain gray, instead of an odd speckled look that he didn't find suitable for a Malfoy. Plus the green in his eyes always made him think of a certain someone…

Draco jerked back a little, interrupted from his thoughts as he heard the shrill voice of Madam Malkin cut through the air. Another boy was coming for his robes. Draco pulled on a disinterested look as he examined him blandly. His clothes were rags, and muggle made by the looks of them, fitting the boy's thin frame badly. He had black hair, with unruly look to it, sticking out in the back with his bangs covering most of his forehead. He didn't look directly at Draco as Madam Malkin pulled a black fitting robe over him and his horrid muggle clothing to get his measures. All in all he reminded Draco of a puppy a half starved, drenched, kicked puppy that nobody wanted. Draco wrote him off as a Muggleborn, but then again wizards were known to be eccentric so he could be a pureblood with a horrible fashion sense.

"Hello," Draco said attempting to be friendly. "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," the boy replied still not looking directly at Draco. This annoyed the blond. _Honestly the lower class should understand to treat their betters with respect_, he thought exasperatedly.

"My father's next door buying books and mother's up the street looking at wands," Draco said, once again attempting to start a conversation, while still probing for information. He waited for the boy to mention that Draco had to be there to get his wand and when he didn't Draco lost most of his steam, but continued because of years of etiquette training under the watchful gaze of his mother.

"Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." Not that he could bully his father into anything, but that didn't mean he couldn't beg, no not beg, _convince_ him to. Draco barely resisted quirking an eyebrow at the expression of annoyed recognition that briefly crossed the boy's features. Both because of the emotion and the fact it was the first time the boy hadn't seemed like a beat puppy. _Hm, perhaps the puppy still has some hope,_ Draco thought to himself mildly.

"Have you got your own broom?" he questioned deciding he was going to enjoy messing with the Muggleborn.

"No," the boy replied, looking a bit anxious.

"Play Quidditch at all?" Draco questioned, inwardly seething at the boy's behavior. He. Wouldn't. Look. At. Him. Draco wanted to grind his teeth and shout at the boy's arrogance and rudeness. Instead he settled for making him feel like a fool.

"_I _do — Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" Draco continued airily enjoying watching the boy squirm.

"No," the boy stated glumly, looking firmly at the floor. _Is that all he can say?_ Draco wondered thoroughly bored with his fun already, but continuing on, at least the boring Muggleborn pauper didn't stab him with a needle every time he attempted a civil conversation.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" Draco informed him, deciding the boy would definitely be a Hufflepuff. _That's where all the dunderheads go, as Severus says._ The boy thought viciously remembering one of his godfather's particularly venomous monologues after a disastrous Potions class.

"Mmm," the boy replied. Draco inwardly sighed and looked around trying to find something else to talk about. _Why I'm I even bothering?_ He didn't have an answer to that other then he was bored and rarely had a chance to talk to someone his own age rather than Pansy, who he tolerated, and the Bête. Plus there was something odd about the boy. It wasn't big, but the small things he did seemed to annoy Draco for no reason at all. Made his skin tingle and bumps rise on his arms as a coldness slowly increased to form a lump in his stomach. It was almost as if he knew the boy and knew he should hate him, but couldn't remember why.

Draco's eyes feel on the window and gleamed with recognition at the large man outside. "I say, look at that man!" Draco was surprised as the boy looked a little more cheerful.

"That's Hagrid," he said sounding oddly pleased with himself. "He works at Hogwarts." Draco fought the urge to glare at the boy. How insufferable. So he can be friendly with the half giant oaf, but not him. A Malfoy.

"Oh," Draco said hiding his smirk and knowing this would annoy the boy. "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?" Just as he expected the boy bristled at the description. _Served the prat right_, Draco thought happily.

"He's the gamekeeper," the boy told him with a defensiveness he probably didn't realize. _Ah, so he must really like him_, Draco taunted mentally.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of _savage _— lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed." Draco drawled, rubbing salt in his earlier words.

"I think he's brilliant," Draco was almost impressed by the boy's tone. It was practically pureblood in its haughty iciness.

"_Do _you?" Draco said, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?" Draco knew he'd hit the mark with those words.

"They're dead," An orphan. Draco frowned, that could explain his shabby attire, but it could also mean he was in truth a pureblood. After all during the war many respectable families were destroyed and children orphaned. Draco opened his mouth to question him on his origins only to have the boy finally look at him.

Draco's question died in his throat s all the blood left his face. He was looking into bright green eyes. The boy's annoyance evaporated at Draco's expression and he looked at him panic stricken. Messy black hair, green eyes, an orphan… Harry Potter. Harry _bloody_ Potter. Draco froze, everything in him stopping except for his eyes staring into Potter's own confused green ones. Green ones with specks of gray around the pupil. The exact same gray of Draco's own eyes. Draco felt something spark in his stomach some sort of recognition. Some part of him went out to this boy. The boy he hated.

Suddenly Draco was falling foreword. He barely saw Potter fall with him or hear what sounded like his mother scream his name. Everything was dim compared to the fire that was racing painfully through his veins. And then everything was black.

* * *

**Things You Need To Know:**

**_Bête (Beast) – Blaise_**


	3. 2

_**Chapter Two:**_

_**Le Mécompte d'une Mère, Renaissance d'une Dette**_

"_**A Mother's Miscalculation, Rebirth of a Debt"**_

Narcissa stared down at the thrashing body of her son, lips tight, cold with horror. Beside him on the bed was a small unfamiliar boy, who she'd known instantly could only be Lily's son. He looked too much like his mother despite those who claimed he only had her eyes. Narcissa's quivering hand gently stroked both the boys' brows. Draco's was fever hot, while Harry's was cold, so very, very cold. A small whimper escaped them, she didn't know which, maybe both, but it didn't matter she whispered calming words to them both trying to make sure the terror that griped her heart did not take over and leave her useless.

Hagrid, who she'd always found uncouth and savage, hovered nearby concerned for both boys, not just his precious Harry Potter, something that redeemed him slightly in Narcissa's eyes. Narcissa leaned over kissing Draco's forehead, stroking his now messy white-blond hair as she'd done when he was a child. He stilled and for a moment his breathing paused causing Narcissa's heart to stop for the eternity between the pause and his next weak breath.

"Mum," he whimpered so quietly she barely heard it. Narcissa felt like crying. She hadn't heard those words pass her child's lips since he was barely a year old. Narcissa fought her impulse and instead cast a cooling spell on him before tucking the blankets more tightly around Harry's petite body, performing yet another warming charm on him. A knock interrupted Narcissa's work and with an impatient wave of her hand Hagrid answered it to find a very grim Tom standing on the other side with two steaming mugs on the tray he held.

"They won't be able to drink that," Narcissa said dully, not able to get up the right amount of annoyance at the man's stupidity. Tom nodded his eyes sympathetic as he handed one of them to Hagrid.

"Not for the boys Missus," the barkeeper told her, crouching down and putting the warm mug in her hand. "It's an energy replenishing potion, with a bit of my best whiskey in it. You're doin' a good thing Missus, but you'll be useless if you work yourself too hard." Narcissa simply nodded an odd lump forming in her throat at the simple gesture. She was touched despite herself. She knew very well that Tom had hated her just as much, if not more than the general population, because of her sister's hand in his son-in-law's death. To have him of all people be the first person in years, besides Lucius, to treat her like she was a fellow human being was almost too much.

"T-thank you," she finally managed, it came so silent she worried he didn't hear, but he nodded, patting her shoulder in a comforting manner.

"The room's free Missus, it's the least I can do for you." Then after sending a concerned look in the boys' direction he left. Narcissa watched the closed door a few more minutes before taking a sip of her drink. The liquid sent fire through her veins and in an instant her weakness from before was gone. Looking at the boys and hearing Hagrid's gentle sobbing start again, Narcissa leaned foreword, then placing her arms on the bed she laid her chin on her them and watched. It was all they could do for now.

…

Everything was hot. Hot and painful. It was as if Draco was being burned alive a thousand times at once. But slowly as the eternity passed it began to slow. Fading from a heat that rivaled the sun to the delicate stinging of sunburn. Draco laid wherever he was for a long time, weak from what had just occurred and feeling the sun's heat beating down through his eyelids. He was somewhere vey sunny and uncomfortable. The boy shifted trying to get away from the gritty substance in his clothes. As he did his hand brushed what he laid on, it was soft and coarse. Surprised Draco dug his hands down feeling the warmth, quit gentle compared to what he'd felt, dim as he dug until his hand was cocooned by the grainy substance. Sand. He was laying on sand.

Opening his eyes, now thoroughly confused as to why he was here instead of at St. Mungo's or the manor, he flinched against the bight light. After a few moments his eyes adjusted and he realized he was in a desert. A desert of red sand. Looking up he saw a velvety blue sky that faded to pale periwinkle on the horizon. The sun hung in the sky, much lower than it was supposed to, and Draco's eyes widened as he saw a pale silver moon, ripe and full, beside it. Regaining his composure the boy stood and began looking around for something, anything to tell him where he was. It was the same in every direction. As Draco took a cautious step foreword suddenly the wind picked up, and his vision was blocked as he threw up his arms to shield himself. Finally the sand storm faded and Draco warily peeked out to find a change in scenery.

He was at the edge of the desert and looking at a magnificent pool of crystal clear water, gleaming silver in the mixture of sun and moon beams. Draco, feeling how parched he was bent down and scooped up a bit of the liquid to drink, but instead watched fascinated as it streamed through his fingers, the silver shining iridescently with more colors than Draco could imagine. The boy repeated the process, but accidently spilled a few drops on the dry ground. His eyes widened as rich, healthy foliage instantly grew where the water touched.

Draco smiled touching a delicate red flower that began to bloom. It was stripped with gold along its five long spiraling petals. Leaning foreword Draco smelled it to find the lingering odor of his mother's perfume, ink, and the scent of the stars. Draco leaned back, looking around amazed at the paradise he'd found, before plunging his hands in to satiate his growing thirst.

The water lost its earlier gentle warmth and was now cold, colder than the worst snowstorm, than the ocean in the arctic, than the moon. Draco shivered as the ice spread through his hands. He almost didn't drink, but his throat burned and he raised the liquid to his lips. They went numb instantly and he barely managed to swallow. As soon as he did though the burning was gone, and the sting from earlier. Draco sighed with relief before something caught his eyes. Underneath the water caught on the very bottom, was a small boy. A familiar small boy. Potter.

Draco smiled gleefully watching Potter struggle unable to rise from the freezing water. Finally he would pay for everything he'd done. Yet despite his vindictive pleasure at the thought of being rid of him, Draco hesitated to whoop with joy. If he sat aside, he'd die. Nobody could bring him back. Draco would be a murderer. The thought did not sit well with his stomach, but he told himself it was just a dream after all. How else would he suddenly be in the dessert and find paradise. It wasn't real…

But the heat, the pain had felt so real, and the cold. It must be very dark down there. Very dark and cold. Draco almost wanted to jump in, almost, but he sat. The memory of his mother's face burning in his mind, the worry of drowning in the dark, and the feel of the cold keeping him still. _Potter deserved this,_ he told himself firmly. _It was jus a dream after all. _

As Draco stood by watching those green eyes dim he suddenly felt his own breath stop. He's sight disappeared and he tried to scream only to be muffled by something freezing, turning him to ice. He was dying, slowly dying, drowning in a dark pool all alone…

And then he was back laying on something gritty and soft being burned alive.

It didn't take Draco long to realize what was going on. After a few more instances of not saving Potter he knew. Dive in or die again. So the blond boy was standing by the pool, taking off his heavy robes so they wouldn't drag him down. The water was colder than he expected and steadily grew murkier the closer he got to Potter. The boy's green eyes watched him and Draco felt a hot flash of hate coil in his stomach. If it wasn't for this boy, Draco wouldn't be freezing in the pool or have felt his own death over and over. He didn't want this obligation, but he continued, cursing Potter bitterly the entire way.

When he reached him he realized the boy still wore his fitting ropes and they were caught in a rock. Frustrated Draco began to pull, trying to yank them out. Then he dove to the bottom looking for a sharp rock to cut them with, knowing they didn't have much time judging from the burning in his lungs. Then Potter's thrashing caught his attention. Turning he saw the boy attempting to remove the robes. Feeling extremely stupid, Draco swam back and helped the boy out. Potter nodded his thanks, but his eyes were weak and drooping. Grabbing the boy, Draco began his terrifying way to the top.

They almost didn't make it, Potter's eyes closed and he went limp dragging Draco down, just as the other boy was about to lose it, but with one strong push their heads were above water. Then suddenly Draco was elsewhere and it was hot. _For the love of-Not again! I saved Potter isn't that what you wanted?_ Then Draco realized that heat was not from what felt like fire in his veins, but was rather outside his body. Plus unlike before he had the unwelcome addition of a hated coughing boy beside him and Draco was wet. Hating his situation he saw two women in a burning house. Draco's throat closed as he recognized one as his mother, the other was a slender pretty red head, _with bright emerald eyes_. Draco gaped slightly as he watched his mother and Lily Potter run through a burning building trying to escape.

Potter stopped coughing and Draco felt him pull up beside him, silent. Draco ignored his presence and watched the silent scene. Lily helping his mother through the window, leading her away, allowing her to leave. It left Draco speechless as he stared dumbstruck as Lily Potter simply walked through the woods apparently back to civilization.

"Who was that? The blond one looked like you?" a voice questioned in Draco's ear. Turning Draco found large green eyes staring at him respectfully, admiringly. Draco felt his stomach twinge with dislike, but he was slowly realizing something with horror. He's mother owed Lily Potter a life debt. And if this occurred during the Death Eater Massacre of 1980, where there was all of three survivors. His mother, her brother-in-law, and Rabastan Lestrange. If it was then, than it meant one thing. Draco Malfoy owed Lily Potter a life debt, because she'd saved him while he was still in the womb. But it also meant, since he was quite sure his mother never repaid it, that this particular debt had passed onto the boy right in front of him. The same one he despised. Draco simply stared at the babbling brunette who now was the center focus of his life until everything faded back to black for the second time that day.

…

Hagrid wasn't sure what was going on. One minute he was waiting for Harry to finish his fitting and the next Narcissa Malfoy was barreling passed him shrieking like a banshee as Harry and the blond boy next to him fell down. He'd helped Narcissa carry them to the Leaky Cauldron telling her they needed to go to St. Mungo's. But the blond witch hadn't listened and had nearly cursed him when he made to take Harry. So Hagrid had stayed, convinced by Draco's scream and Harry's whimper that moving them anymore was not a good idea. He felt horrible and helpless as he stood nearby crying as Narcissa didn't stop moving, helping the boys anyway she could.

Hagrid had neither liked nor trusted Narcissa Malfoy, but knew she was at least better than her sister from Hogwarts. Seeing her so pained over her son though made him feel kinder towards the woman. And seeing her gentle care for Harry and worry over him that was equal to her worry over her son was enough to convince him she in fact deserved the second chance Professor Dumbledore was always offering. A strangled cry drew the half giant's thoughts back to reality.

Narcissa was holding her slowly blinking son. Hagrid jumped to his feet and rushed to Harry's side. The boy looked up at him with dazed green eyes. Hagrid almost burst into tears at the sight of the boy, sleepy, but oddly content. Hearing a snuffle that Hagrid had been unable to hold in Harry looked up and broke into a wide grin.

"Hagrid!" the boy chirped happily. At this the giant man did burst into tears of happiness, crying until Narcissa quieted him and convinced him that he shouldn't hug Harry until he completely calm so he wouldn't accidently hurt him. His sniffles dying Hagrid realized Harry was beaming and chatting happily the Draco, who unlike Harry did not look completely recovered from his experience. In fact the boy looked half dead. Missing the flash of worry in Narcissa's blue eyes, Hagrid frowned and watched the quiet boy concerned.

"Hagrid can you do me a favor?" Narcissa asked him, knocking him out of his worrying. The man looked up. Of course he'd help. She'd just saved Harry after all. Her eyes remained on the boys as she spoke. "My husband should be outside the Quidditch Shop. Tell him I sent you, that everything's alright, Draco just had a relapse and to head home. We'll meet him there." Hagrid hesitated for a moment, but then he looked at Harry, who looked as happy as when Hagrid had bought him his owl, which was in her cage nearby. Hagrid nodded deciding he would trust Narcissa, it was the least she deserved, and set out on the unpleasant task of speaking with Lucius Malfoy.

…

Draco watched his mother cheek over Potter a feeling of numb horror clenching his heart. He didn't completely understand what a Life Debt entitled, but he knew enough to realize it was very serious and it _had_ to be repaid. Draco looked own at his hands, unblemished and white, as if he hadn't just experienced the most excruciating pain. Draco shivered at the memory of it and of what it entitled. He would have to pay it back, but he didn't have to like it. But what could an eleven year old wizard, who hadn't even started Hogwarts do? Draco groaned and threw Potter a hateful look as he spoke shyly to his mother. It was all his fault. Draco's hate flared, burning harder from its recent kindling, but it died when he depressingly realized how futile it was. It still burned under the skin, seething and snarling, but he was too drained to draw it up.

His mother looked up at him and her eyes were pained and knowing, she quickly hid it though when she spoke to Potter. "Harry, why don't you go downstairs and buy yourself something to eat." Potter looked confused as she handed him money and instantly began protesting that he could pay for his own food and she'd done enough. But her next words silenced any protest.

"Don't be silly what is family for?" The silence in the room was startling. Potter looked at his mother with a mixture of awe and slight terror.

"F-family?" the boy finally croaked, clenching the money in his hand. Draco frowned noticing the odd strangled tone in his voice as if fighting hope. Draco's thoughts instantly grew dark as he realized that mixed in with his apparent Life Debt, his mother's acknowledgement of Potter meant he had everything working against him. They didn't abandon family.

"Yes," his mother said with a sad, gentle smile, that made Draco burn with a new emotion. Jealousy. "You and I are cousins. Your grandmother was one of my favorite aunts." Potter gaped at her, before obediently rising to his feet and leaving the room in a daze. His mother stayed in her kneeling position from where she'd been talking to the considerably shorter Potter for a few moments before turning to look at Draco with an expression of such guilt and pain that Draco felt almost guilty for his earlier jealousy. It was clear she loved him more.

"Oh, my poor boy, I am so sorry for what I have done to you." His mother whispered her words carrying across the room hoarsely. Draco bit his lip to hold back venomous words of accusation as she calmed herself and walked over to sit with him on his side of the bed.

"How much do you know?" she asked him. He told her very slowly, forcing an emotionless monotone about everything, from the burning too the pool. He didn't even think of withholding the fact he'd left Potter to drown. More than once. His mother didn't so much as flinch as he finished his story with watching her escape.

"Why didn't Potter act mad at me?" he questioned, blandly. His mother looked thoughtful for a moment before answering quietly.

"It seems the entire point of this was to get you to accept that you had to protect Harry, more than likely he _couldn't _see you and only knew someone else was there when you pulled him out." She explained calmly. Draco absorbed this with a calm that amazed him.

"Why did you tell the oaf to tell Father I had a relapse?" Draco questioned carefully thinking his question through. His mother sighed and looked at him sadly her eyes unconsciously drawn to where his hands fiddled with the blanket's edge.

"When you were a little over a year old, both you and I went through the same experience that just occurred. Except for me, I saw a green eyed baby with messy black hair and a scar. I think it was the Old Magik's way of telling me that I'd failed." Narcissa looked up from where she'd been staring and met her son's gaze looking forlorn. "It was that day I knew there was an extra connection between Harry and you. That day your eyes had green in them, and no doubt it was when Harry got his gray. I doubt Hagrid could tell, but when I was performing spells on the two of you I sensed something different in your magical cores. You two are connected magically, it was as if some of yours went to him and vice versa." That explained the feeling from before he fainted at least, Draco decided pessimistically.

"What do we do now?" Draco questioned after an eternity of silence.

"You must get close to Harry, become friends with him. We can't pay back our debt unless we get close and if I make any more moves Dumbledore will no doubt block me. Because I've acknowledged him as family, it should help sway him, from what I've learned it seems those _Muggles_," his mother sneered the word with as much distaste and scorn as she could manage, eyes flashing. "Were far from the ideal care takers."

Draco knew in the pit of his stomach, but refused to give up hope. "We can't be friends if I'm in Slytherin." His mother looked at him sadly.

"You're right, that boy is Gryffindor through and through, just like Sirius." His mother said the last words, very quietly, almost nostalgically, but it still made Draco jerk with surprise. Sirius Black had never even been said in his presence before. To have her compare Potter to the shame of the Black Family in such a casual manner was jarring. A nauseas filling clenched Draco and bile rose in his throat as he realized, _he_, Draco Malfoy would now be the shame of the Malfoy and Black family, right along with his infamous cousin. It was sobering.

"Father will be furious." Draco told her dully, looking at the ground in a daze.

"Your father knows, we've been preparing for this possibility for year, we had hoped we wee wrong, but…" his mother's voice broke revealing how completely upset she truly she was by the incident. Composing herself she continued. "Your Father will be fine, he understands."

Draco clenched his fists, his anger roaring again. Anger at his parents easy acceptance. Anger at his situation. Anger at how powerless he was to stop it. But above all else, a searing, boiling hatred of Harry Potter, the new most important thing in Draco's life.

…

Harry lid on his bed in a daze, smiling at himself peacefully. Narcissa—his cousin—had stayed with him and Hagrid, bringing Draco to finish shopping. They'd bought their wands and gathered the little things they missed, before Narcissa and Draco had to 'floo' home. Flooing apparently consisted of throwing some powder in fire, that turned it green and yelling the place you wanted to go to. But before they'd left Narcissa had promised to write to him and meet him at the train to Hogwarts. She'd then gone on to explain exactly how to get through, making Hagrid blush when the large man realized, horrified, he'd almost forgotten to tell Harry. Afterwards she'd given him news that had resulted in his happy balloon from earlier returning. She'd promised to owl and explain any thing he wanted to know about the Wizarding World, before telling him to write her if he ever needed anything.

Harry was practically bursting with warm ecstasy at the thought of his new family members. Draco had seemed like an arrogant, brat at first, but Harry remembered from his weird experience that Draco had dived in to save him from drowning in the icy water. At first he'd assumed it was a fever dream, but from what Hagrid said about how cold he was he doubted it. Afterwards Draco had been kind of quiet and subdued. Harry suspected he wasn't fully recovered, which was worrying, but considering how amazing Narcissa was about healing people, he was sure she'd make him feel better in no time. Plus Draco listened to him ramble on, Harry remembered with a grin. Harry really wasn't such a chatterbox, but he couldn't help himself. And Draco only seemed to talk when he was answering Harry's questions, patiently and intelligently. Between Hagrid and Draco, Harry now knew about the houses of Hogwarts. Thinking back Harry wondered why Hagrid had seemed so surprised when Draco told him that Harry needed to be in Gryffindor. He even went so far as to list some of the houses virtues. Shrugging it off Harry's mind drifted to Narcissa.

Narcissa was a beautiful woman, but she also seemed sad. Her blue eyes always followed him and Draco worriedly, but then again considering what had happened it was probably natural for Draco's mum to worry about him. Harry's cheeks flushed with happiness as he remembered she'd also been worried about Harry. It was nice. To be worried about that is. Narcissa seemed really clever too, she'd begun explaining things like how the ministry worked and the types of things they would learn as they walked. Harry rolled over on his bed pulling the blanket around him in a cocoon of warmth. Harry tingled with happiness replaying the joy of his first day as a wizard over and over, until he was fast asleep.


	4. 3

**AN: **_**Rat de bibliothèque (Bookworm) – Hermione **_

_**Andouille (Dimwit) – Harry **_

_**Merde – (Shit)**_

_**Ânes muets (Dumb asses) – Harry and Ron**_

**_Sorry for the shortness, but honestly a train ride isn't that interesting. And about the French if anyone's wondering, the Black Family motto is French and since Malfoy is also derived from French it's a good guess that one if, not both, families could possibly have French ancestry. So in this fic Draco had more of a Mother complex, because of Narcissa being more involved and so he inherited more of his Black roots including French and eventually some of the magic taught to the male members. This chapter is mostly to show how things change and stay the same, it took my awhile to decide rather to still let Harry meet the Weasleys, but after deciding Ron would still be his freind, I almost didn't, I decided it was necessary. I hope it wasn't too dull._**

* * *

_**Chapter Three:**_

_**Dans l'Inconnu**_

"_**Into the Unknown"**_

Harry looked around the train station nervously. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had been bristling at him all morning, because of last night. Narcissa's large eagle owl, Paracelsus, had visited again last night to remind Harry to wait for them on the platform so they could say good-bye properly and meet Lucius, Draco's dad. Paracelsus and Hedwig didn't like each other, or at least not usually, so Hedwig was not against refusing to share her water with the larger specimen of owl. For Harry this meant sneaking up an extra tray for Paracelsus to use, a dangerous venture since the Dursleys were on edge after the revelation of his wizardry. But Harry had done it anyway and had been lucky enough not to be caught. Unfortunately his luck ran out.

Paracelsus had been giving Harry an affectionate farewell, when he apparently over stepped his boundaries as visiting owl and Hedwig hooted something, clearly offensive at him. This led to Paracelsus hooting back and soon Harry's room sounded like a menagerie of angry animals. The Dursleys had rushed in the demand answers and had not been pleased to discover Harry had been having contact with a magical person or that this person now knew where they lived. Harry had decided to forgo mentioning his relation to Narcissa and Draco not sure how they'd react, but sure it wouldn't be well.

So the Dursleys woke up, late, tired from staying up half the night to yell at Harry and surly from having to have to go to London. Harry was quite sure he wouldn't have gone if it wasn't for Dudley's consistent begging to get rid of his tail. They'd arrived at the train station late and Harry hadn't bothered saying good-bye as he quickly threw his things on a trolley and rushed off before the Dursleys had even come to a full stop. He had all of twelve minutes to get to the platform and he was sure that Narcissa would be worried, if she didn't already think he was some inconsiderate oaf who forgot his promises. Harry felt a twinge of guilt and hurried. Apparently he wasn't the only one late because he saw a large family of red heads waiting there.

"Hello there," he told the plump red haired woman. She looked down at him with surprised brown eyes.

"Why hello there dear," she replied with a smile looking over him as if searching for his parents. Not finding them she looked down at Harry concerned. "Are you lost dear? Do you know how to...?" She gestured towards the barrier between the platforms.

"Oh, it's okay ma'am. We got here late and my cousins are waiting on the other side." Harry said as he fought a blush of happiness when he realized he had family waiting for him. The woman relaxed and smiled.

"That's good dear, you can go before Ron," she told him kindly and he saw that the other boys had gone leaving the youngest, a tall, gangly boy with a long nose and curious blue eyes, who stood beside his sister.

"Thank you ma'am," he told her and looked at the barrier a little nervous.

"It's best to take it at a run your first time." She offered quietly so the others wouldn't overhear. Harry nodded and began running at the barrier. He closed his eyes doubt clenching his stomach, sure he'd hit it, but when they opened he was on the other side. And with a smile he saw a blond woman hovering nearby, who smiled when she saw him.

"There you are Harry, I was starting to worry." The woman said clearly relieved. Harry smiled his heart swelling as he walked towards her.

"Sorry we were late." He apologized sheepishly, realizing how shabby he looked compared to her impeccable attire. It was clear his cousins were wealthy and it made the difference between them jarring and a little embarrassing.

"Oh that's fine dear, why don't you go find a compartment, I'll go get Draco and Lucius, he's been dying to meet you." Harry nodded, relieved she wasn't upset and rushed off to find a compartment. Finding and empty to one near the end he began to attempt to get his trunk, but kept dropping it on his foot.

"Need some help?" one of the red heads from earlier offered, appearing at his side. Harry blushed rubbing his sore foot and nodded. His twin quickly rushed over and between the three of them they managed it.

"Thanks," Harry told them stretching as he fell into a nearby chair.

"No problem," the one who'd offered told him. "I'm Fred and this is—"

"George Weasley, pleasure." The other finished. Harry smiled and a little nervously offered his hand.

"I'm Harry." He said and they shook. Before any of them could say anything though a familiar voice floated in through the open door.

"Harry, where are you?" Narcissa called. Harry felt another happy skip in his heart and he and the Weasley twins parted as their mother called for them. Narcissa smiled as Harry jogged over. Beside her as a bored looking Draco, who had Paracelsus in his arms. Behind them was a tall, elegantly dressed blond man, who looked just like Draco, holding the handle of a trolley.

"Harry this is my husband Lucius Malfoy," Narcissa told him oddly formal. Harry shifted nervously under those cold gray eyes and smiled.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," he told him politely. The man watched him for a few more moments before answering with a mildly pleasant smile. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he may have passed some test. Weird.

"Like wise Mister Potter," Lucius told him and a whistle blew telling them it was close to time to go. In a rush they loaded Draco's trunk and placed Paracelsus as far away from Hedwig as possible. Then came the good byes and promises to write. Harry watched Narcissa and Lucius disappear and noticed the little red haired girl was running beside them waving as she cried and laughed. Harry smiled with excitement. He wasn't completely sure what to expect, but he had people who cared and wanted him.

…

Draco was a little disappointed when Potter did indeed show up. So knowing his anger and frustration would show if he spoke Draco remained silent as they loaded his things and said good bye. Seeing Potter look at him expectantly Draco quickly drew out one of his books from his trunk, drawing at random. He wound up with _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander and began to pretend to be completely absorbed. Unfortunately his fake reading was interrupted by a red head opening the door. Draco glared at the boy, before looking back at the book. Biting back any of the hundreds of insults that stood perched on his tongue.

Potter did the introductions as a pair of twins came in. Draco was relieved Harry didn't mention his last name, he didn't feel like dealing with hostility at the moment, the red heads were too distracted when they realized it was Harry Potter to pay him too much attention anyway. Draco bristled glaring at the red head when he dared ask about if Harry remembered anything from the night his parents were murdered. The boy instantly shut up at Draco's look and changed the subject. Weasley or not did he posses no tact? It wasn't that Draco necessarily cared about Harry's feelings, but it was an excuse to act hostile to Weasley.

After an awkward moment Draco went back to his book, forcing himself to read as Potter and Weasley 'bonded'. Draco mentally snorted at the thought. Honestly, Potter was such an _andouille_, if he didn't realize how foolish it was to befriend a Weasley. No money, no charm, no standing. He was better off befriending a rock. Draco knew that if things had been different he would probably have been ordered to befriend Potter and steer him away, but now it was unnecessary. Potter apparently thought of him as a _friend_ without Draco having to make an effort. Draco comforted himself at his cousin making such a social faux pas with that at least he was a pureblood. As traitorous as you could get, but pure all the same.

Draco forced himself to focus as they comforted each other over their bad hands in life and noted that he would have to tell his mother about those horrid Muggles. It was something she'd want to know. But eventually the droning voices were fading out of his hearing and he was truly absorbed in his book. He was surprised by how fascinating it was to learn about magical creatures even he'd never heard about. He was in fact so buried in it, he didn't even realize until too late he'd accepted Potter's offer of a jelly bean and popped it in his mouth. He instantly gagged and spat it out throwing a dirty look at the laughing duo.

Weasley looked up tears streaming down his face and burst into another peal of laughter at Draco's offended expression. Potter at least was calm enough to speak. "Sorry Draco we just couldn't decide which of us should try it, and you weren't even paying attention when I handed it too you." Potter looked up at him with a small sheepish smile eyes wide like a hopeful puppy used to being kicked. Draco huffed glaring at them both. The pair of ânes muets, he thought darkly, calling them a word his mother most definitely would not like him knowing.

"Pepper," he informed them wrinkling his nose disdainfully. Potter stuffed his fist over his mouth to stifle the giggles and Weasley grinned looking at him sympathetically in a way that made Draco wish to vomit.

"Sorry mate, but your face was priceless." The red head said in a friendly manner that made Draco fight the violent urge to strangle him. Draco simple nodded and picked up his book, only to be interrupted by someone at the door. He looked up bristling, the round faced boy standing their instantly flinched back cowed by the look. Potter though smiled at him encouragingly, giving Draco a reproachful look. _You bloody prat!_ Draco mentally ranted. _You have no right to reproach anything I do. It's bad enough I'll be stuck with you._ Inwardly fuming Draco glared unfriendly at the boy as he stuttered out his reason for being there.

"H-Have you seen a toad?" the tearful boy questioned. Draco desperately wanted to tell him no and to get lost, but he was sure Potter might actually verbally scold him if he did. And honestly if he went through that after all the suffering the boy caused him and would no doubt cause him, he couldn't be responsible for his actions. And he was quite sure they would not help his effort to pay back his debt.

"Sorry, but I'm sure he'll turn up eventually." Potter said kindly. The boy simply nodded glumly and after a fearful look at Draco left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," Weasley said, looking mildly interested. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." Draco looked at the Weasley for a long moment and smirked. Something they could agree on. Draco cocked his head to the side as the boy drew his wand to try and turn the rat yellow. Draco doubted he could, that would be a pretty advance Transfiguration that he doubted a _Weasley_, or any first year could accomplish. Then of course he was bothered once more by the annoying ingrates he would be trapped with for seven long, painful years. The toad boy was back and he brought a girl.

"What. Do. You. Want?" Draco growled through clenched teeth. The girl looked at him clearly a bit taken aback by the hostility and a flash of hurt when through her brown eyes before she swelled up her bushy hair seeming to bristle like an offended cat's.

"I just wanted to ask if you'd seen a toad, Neville's lost one." She told him in a bossy voice. Draco glared at her, and after a moments hesitation she gathered her nerve and glared back.

"He's been here before." Draco drawled smoothly. The girl flushed at his tone, but was quickly distracted by the wand in Weasley's hand. Her eyes lit up in a way that told Draco plenty about hr personality. Bookworm.

"Your doing magic, let's see." She said quickly sitting next to Weasley looking at him expectantly. Weasley and Potter shared a look clearly taken aback by this, but instead of telling her to leave like Draco very much desired to, Weasley went on to perform the sorriest excuse for a spell Draco had ever seen.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the girl asked a little too demeaning for Draco's taste. The next words out of Hermione Granger's mouth sealed her fate as Draco's hated enemy. The girl was Muggleborn. Perfect an excuse to despise her. Beside her perfectionist personality.

"Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter." They looked at him expectantly after they'd finished there introductions.

"Draco Malfoy." Draco drawled pleasantly, secretly smiling at Weasley's reaction to the name. his mouth popped open and he gapped at him. Granger apparently didn't recognize the name, but the other boy did. Neville Who-ever-he-was looked at Draco with a blank expression that made him feel uneasy.

"Sounds French." Granger said airily. Draco eyed her angrily.

"It is, a close translation being 'bad faith', Mademoiselle Rat de bibliothèque," Draco told her voice still pleasant even as he insulted her. She narrowed her eyes at him clearly suspicious, before she turned, unsurprisingly, towards Potter. The conversation was torture for Draco, who didn't hesitate to inform her she was unwelcome every chance he got, without of course doing anything rude that Potter would notice. She left after announcing they'd arrive soon.

"Whatever house I'm in I hope she's not there," Weasley said distastefully. Draco was beginning to worry for his sanity at agreeing with a Weasley _twice_ in one day. But his thoughts quickly changed when Weasley turned to him warily.

"You didn't say you were a Malfoy." Weasley said cautiously, without sounding too hostile. Potter looked between them confused. Draco frowned at Weasley, honestly he hadn't even done anything too him. Well yet anyway.

"Your point?" Draco questioned coolly. Weasley flushed for some reason and continued.

"My Dad told me that all Malfoys are evil scum," Draco bristled, but it was Potter who opened his mouth to defend him first.

"Shut up! Draco hasn't done anything to you! Draco's my family, if you don't like him than you don't like me!" Potter snarled jumping to his feet. Weasley drew back into his chair and frowned at Potter before eyeing Draco thoughtfully.

"I was going to say, that, that is what my Dad thinks, but after seeing Draco I'm not convinced he was right." Weasley told them and Potter instantly relaxed. Smiling nervously, but apparently pleased. Draco simply looked at Weasley who smiled at him sheepishly before sighing and relaxing in his chair. Any tension left quickly evaporated. How very wrong they were. He despised both of them and now found them completely stupid for not realizing it.

"So what house do you think you'll be in?" Potter questioned, cheerfully changing the subject.

"Gryffindor, probably, the entire family's in it," Weasley told him looking oddly depressed. "But Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad. Imagine being in Slytherin though—" Weasley instantly cut off throwing Draco and apologetic look for his disgusted tone.

"Sorry, I know your family's been in it as long as mine's been in Gryffindor." Weasley told him repentantly. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Not all of us, there's been one or two Gryffindors and there's always at least three Ravenclaws every generation." Draco told him blandly.

"But you think you'll be in Slytherin don't you Draco?" Potter questioned looking oddly sad. It took Draco a few minutes to realize why and he almost rolled his eyes. Honestly, the boy was probably torn over choosing which house he wanted to be in. He was already sickeningly attached to Weasley and was too blind to realize Draco hated him.

"You never know," Draco said vaguely, "You might be surprised." Both the boys looked pensive at this and turned the conversation to something interesting Quidditch. Draco actually managed to participate willingly. It was surprisingly entertaining, though it would have been more enjoyable without his current companions. Draco's thought grew depressed as they changed into there robes and got off the train. Finally arriving did not help Draco's mood or make him feel very charitable towards Potter. One of the best experiences of his life ruined.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over hear!" A booming voice shouted as they approached the familiar towering man. He smiled at them black eyes glittering in a friendly manner. "All right there Harry, Draco?" The big man called eyes lingering concerned on Draco's pessimistic expression. Potter yelled back fine as they climbed into the boats. Draco's joy at being separated from them was short lived as he turned to examine his new companions. Pansy Parkinson glared at him accusingly, Theodore Nott eyed him thoughtfully, and Blaise Zabini, the one he hated most after Potter, smirked at him eyes amused.

"Well, well," Blaise drawled a sickening expression causing his face to brighten. "What is our future Prince doing with Potter and a Weasel?" Draco felt his throat go dry as the pulled off the bank. Well merde.


	5. 4

**AN: Sorry for the delay I was in Texas for a month, with no internet access.

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**Chapter Four:**

**Brisement de la Tradition**

"**Breaking Tradition"**

If Draco had ever thought nothing could be worse than being forced to be both Potter's friend and civil to a Weasley, he knew now how deeply wrong he'd been. They were nothing compared to the brief five minutes of hell he went through crossing the lake with Nott, Pansy, and the Bête. In all honesty, he liked Nott best. At least he didn't talk, no Nott simply watched with his intense thoughtful silence, absorbing the scene with that creepy calm that always unnerved Draco. Pansy on the other hand had no qualms with telling him exactly how horrid she thought his behavior and how low he was sinking. The Bête would of course insert his opinion every now and again, cutting off Pansy before her shrill voice made their ears bleed. By the time he'd escaped the boat he almost thought it was worth Potter and Weasley's presence to escape them.

"There you are," Weasley said with a nervous smile. Potter turned at the words and his loathsome green eyes lit up happily. Draco mentally groaned, only the reminder of Pansy's 'scolding' and Blaise's presence keeping him from fleeing.

"We thought we'd lost you," Weasley continued amiably, his blue eyes much too friendly. Draco's nerves were close to snapping as the Weasley promptly pulled him foreword with an uncalled for familiarity of an arm around his shoulder. Only the timely intervention of a dark-haired witch prevented Draco from using one of the many curses he'd looked up in his father's library during the summer.

She looked brisk, stern and well kept and Draco knew instantly that this woman with her intelligent hawk eyes, and no nonsense air was Professor Minerva McGonagall. Deputy Headmistress, Transfiguration Teacher, Head of Gryffindor, and Dumbledore's Right Hand Woman. Draco wondered what this woman's, who his parents both shared a mutual campaign of dislike, hate, and grudging respect with, reaction would be if everything went according to plan. He certainly doubted she would be overjoyed, but his mother was counting on the fact she'd be forced by her sense of justice and fairness to give him some form of help.

Seeing her now Draco was beginning to regret agreeing to the plan and wondered if perhaps he could still accomplish his goals if he _tweaked_ it a tad. Then again, considering Potter, the boy would no doubt do something incredibly stupid and suicidal. Like sorting himself into Slytherin. Following the mob consumed in his thoughts Draco only half listened to the witch's introduction. Was he the only one who noticed the twang of dislike when she mentioned Slytherin, or perhaps did he imagine it? Doubtful. With an order to look presentable she left eyeing his hair warily. Draco glared at her defiantly. He knew very well his hair was messy, but so what, it wasn't like it even mattered much. He'd had a very stressful summer so he hadn't exactly spent time 'primping', as Blaise called it, in front of the mirror.

Spinning on his heel Draco dragged Potter and Weasley close by, along with the round faced boy from earlier. Draco didn't care to try and remember his name, but Weasley informed him it was Neville. Draco's hands quickly efficiently straightened Neville's cloak practically sneering at how he'd fastened it under his left ear. The boy yelped and Draco suspected he'd tugged with a bit more force than strictly necessary. Weasley protested weakly as Draco gave him a handkerchief to wipe his nose, but after threatening to do it for him, the taller boy caved. Turning to Potter, Draco was flummoxed on how to handle it. The boy's hair was hopeless and almost as messy as his white blonde disarray. Instead he settled for straightening his clothes until the hung snuggly and neatly. Well, he thought grimly examining his annoyances, at least now they were presentable and wouldn't shame him. Gods if he was going to forced to be in their company for years on end he would have to whip them into something halfway respectable.

The three boys did not guess their companions thoughts, but they all sensed something stirring as he examined them with dark determined eyes. Looking at each other the three of them wondered rather or not they'd have to go through that embarrassing incident again. Noting the way he looked at Harry's hair the three decided that yes, they probably would. It almost made Ron regret accepting Draco as a decent bloke and made Neville wonder how he'd gotten dragged into it.

"How exactly do they sort us?" Potter questioned nervously, disrupting Draco's plans on turning them into something he wouldn't have to hang his head in shame at being seen in public with. Weasley looked nervous he noted and Neville (what was his lat name anyway?) looked slightly ill.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Weasley replied, not looking too sure himself. Draco would have snorted, but he noted the looks of terror that passed over Neville No-Last-Name's and Potter's faces. Looking around he realized it was mirrored on the others faces too, even those who _knew_ how the sorting was done paled a little at Weasley's words. Merlin were they all idiots? And now that bothersome Granger girl was reciting spells under her breath. Draco eyed her darkly wondering if she'd like a lesson on curses if she didn't shut up.

"It doesn't hurt," Draco snapped, deciding to win himself brownie points, a nauseating idea in itself, and besides their fear annoyed him. They looked up at him uncertainly. "I'm not telling you how, but you'll be fine and you don't need to know any spells so shut it Granger, none of us need to hear it!" Granger snapped up her brown eyes glaring at him under her bushy hair as she flushed a bright pink. A few others chuckled, but they relaxed now. Draco wanted to vomit at the friendly, thankful looks they were all giving him. Oh Merlin, look at him, comforting them all, making them, he almost retched, _feel_ better. What was he a bloody Hufflepuff? The Bête looked incredibly amused and Draco was more tempted to curse him than he had been of Weasley.

Then the ghosts appeared and the squealing started. The stupid looking one in the outfit with tights and ruff floated overhead, his foot going through Draco's head and the boy silently vowed to find a way to hex ghosts if it was the last thing he did, as he shivered from the ice cold feeling. The Fat Friar happily cheered at the sight of them and instantly tried to convert them to Hufflepuffs. Draco decided the annoyingly cheerful ghost would be next on his list if he got revenge on the tight wearing one.

"Move along," the familiar stern voice called. "The Sorting's about to start." Suddenly Draco felt much kinder to Professor McGonagall for saving him from the spectral pests. Following behind a sandy haired boy, who Draco highly suspected of being Irish, if his accented murmurings were any sign, Draco wondered if the Great Hall would do his parents' stories justice.

Draco couldn't speak as he examined the room they walked in. True it wasn't as expensively furnished as Malfoy Manor, true it probably wasn't even too decorative, but it took his breath away. Thousands of candles lit the expansive room and it seemed to crackle with energy, with life, with _magic_. Looking up at the velvety black ceiling with its bright stars, Draco was reminded nostalgically of star watching with his parents when he'd still been very, young, maybe five. It was a beautiful room and as his eyes met Potter's to see the wonder and appreciation in those green depths for a split second he almost liked the boy, sensing he understood Draco's feelings. But just as soon as it occurred it was gone, interrupted by Granger's awed muttering about it being enchanted. Suddenly his hate flared up anew and Draco turned back. His joy at seeing the hall dissipating quickly as he remembered the goal he was going to accomplish tonight.

He, Draco Arcturus Malfoy, was going to be sorted into Gryffindor, even if it meant burning that hat, he _would_ get what he wanted. After all Malfoys and Blacks alike were both an ambitious lot. And what was more ambitious than getting into the enemy encampment? So to speak.

He waited impatiently for Professor McGonagall to get to the M's. And finally after Neville, now Longbottom, gave it to Morag MacDougal. After the girl was sent to Hufflepuff, looked like a duffer too with those big cow-like brown eyes, Draco's name was called and he went foreword a numbness spreading through his limbs. Could he really do it? Break away from everything he'd been taught for one person? Shame himself for someone he hated? Spend seven years with people he couldn't stand or respect? Draco almost faltered, almost gave into his weak urge to tell the hat he wanted Slytherin, but one memory of his Mother's pained face was enough for him to slam the hat down determined.

_Well this is easy you're obviously SLY-_

**Wait!** Draco protested cutting off the hat before he could shout. It went silent and Draco could feel the impatience radiating from it. **You have to put me in Gryffindor.** He felt the shock and almost flinched as the hat began to go through his mind. He shivered feeling the light dusting as its fingers, for lack of a better word, trailed trough his brain and grabbed onto certain memories or thoughts hear and there.

_A Life Debt, eh? Well this is certainly unexpected. I've never had a Slytherin, much less a Malfoy wish for Gryffindor._ Draco felt a twang of annoyance. Did the hat have to mention that? Remind him how much he was failing his family name by doing this. The hat chuckled at this, causing Draco to mentally glare at it hatefully. Wait, could he glare with his mind?

**Could you just put me in Gryffindor, I **_**have**_** to go. Now that you know why it should be easy.** Draco pointed out placating.

_Put you in Gryffindor. No, no my boy. You are Slytherin through and through, your ambition to save your hated enemy only makes me more sure where you belong._

Draco growled. **I'm brave too! I dived in after Potter!**

_Only because you would suffer if you didn't._ the hat replied calmly.

**My reasons don't matter so much as my actions, honestly isn't doing **_**good**_** for the wrong reasons better than doing **_**bad**_** for ones that you think are good?**

_Depends on perspective._

**Either way it still was brave, self serving, but brave. And think of what I'm doing, going into a House that will be hostile, turning those who should have been my friends into enemies, going against everything I've been taught all for Potter! That's brave isn't it? I know I could be hurt, but I'm still doing it.**

_Still self serving though._ The hat mused and Draco bristled. Dammit it had to work-

_But you are correct it is 'brave', but that isn't why I'm doing this. You decided to convince me despite being able to choose otherwise. That was…bold of you I suppose, so I shall allow you to go to Gryffindor, but believe me Mister Malfoy you will have to prove yourself. So it seems you are going to GRYFFINDOR!_

The complete and utter silence in the room was less than comforting. Pansy, he noted from his still sitting position looked as if she'd been slapped. The choking sound coming from further down the Gryffindor table as they all gaped at him dumbly wasn't helping. Draco was more than a little startled when _Longbottom_ of all people started clapping for him first. It was timid and quiet, yet determined and soon the sandy haired one, Finnigan was following in suit. The rest of the table joined, but it was a subdued quiet clap that was stifled with shock. Standing straight and proud Draco swaggered down to the table and calmly sat next to Longbottom looking up at the startled McGonagall expectantly. The Great Hall was quiet, more focused on him than the sorting, until one very particular name appeared. It was Potter's turn.

Draco knew the moment Potter started arguing with the hat and his heart clenched in panic. Dammit if that hat dared sort him somewhere else just to spite Draco he swore he'd burn it, repair it, and do it over and over again. His hands clenched on the table before him. And after one tense moment Draco went limp as the table around him exploded at the loud proclamation of "GRYFFINDOR!" Dazed Potter slipped in beside him looking at Draco with a sheepish confused expression. Raising an eyebrow at Potter's expression, Draco leaned foreword at Potter's urging to hear what he had to say.

"The hat said to tell you, 'that you owe me one, you arrogant bugger, and that you're lucky I like you.'" Potter blinked up at him innocently. "What did he, or it, rather, mean?" Bastard, Draco cursed, making up some nonsense about being worried about being alone. Potter accepted this and turned to watch the rather green Weasley be sorted. He was of course sent over to join Potter and him and noting Longbottom and Granger, Draco realized his set from hell was completely. Oh the Joy, to be Cannon Fodder.

It took him awhile to notice that he was being ignored or when he wasn't being ignored they watched him suspiciously, as if they suspected him of murdering them in their sleep. Draco acted as if he didn't notice and tried to enjoy his tasteless meal as he listened to the chatter of the first years. Granger spoke to Weasley's brother about classes. Finnigan and the others were gossiping about their blood status. Draco barely resisted rolling his eyes. And here he was under the impression they were to _pure _and _high-minded_ to care for such things.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Draco heard Potter ask, his voice shaky. Looking up bored he saw it was Severus.

"Oh, that's Severus Snape," Draco said casually, interrupting Weasley's before he could speak. The red head frowned at him disapprovingly, but Draco ignored him. "He's the Potions Master of Hogwarts. He's one of the best Potions Master in the European Order."

Draco hadn't been able to resist bragging a little. After all besides his mother and father, Severus was the closest thing to family he had. Draco's chest hurt as he wondered rather Severus was disappointed in him or not. He was a Gryffindor now, of course he'd be disappointed. Severus hated Gryffindors. The thought was depressing.

"How do you know?" Weasley's brother questioned. Draco looked at him bored.

"Well, obviously because he's my godfather." Draco said, bristling instinctively at the dislike he saw in Weasley's brother's eyes.

"Godfather? That cool! What's he like Draco?" Potter looked up at him curious.

"He's clever, cunning, and the most talented Potioneer you'll ever meet." Draco said, deciding there was no harm in converting Potter in the Gryffindors to his views. "He won't tolerate any cheekiness or dunderheads, so look at your Potions book ahead of time. He'll probably want to make sure we're ready. He's intimidating, but he only acts that way because any mishaps could be deadly. Even with the simplest potions. Just pay attention and do what he tells you."

The first years were absorbing it like water all eager for knowledge on the infamous Snape. Draco rolled his eyes and noticed that Potter wore an oddly wary look. Draco watched Potter turn and give Severus a searching glance. Draco looked away confused. Severus hadn't been near Potter yet. Why was the boy so wary? Thoughts like this reoccupied Draco for the rest of the feast.

It wasn't until they were in the Gryffindor dorms—with those horrid scarlet curtains—that Potter told him.

"My scar hurt when he looked at me." Potter said quietly, so the others wouldn't hear. "He looked like he hated me."

Draco assured the boy, he'd probably imagined things. And finally Potter's confused expression faded and Potter was sound asleep. Draco stayed up the rest of the night not sure what to do. He wanted to scream, to cry, to run away, but he stayed. He stayed like he was supposed to. Draco no longer had the luxury of those choices. Even if he liked to deceive himself by saying that he did. A few hours before dawn Draco fell into a troubled sleep about deserts and beautiful pools of water. And dying. Dying over and over and over again.


	6. 5

**AN: Sorry it took so long. I just couldn't write this right. But after a little inspirational music (Thank Globus) I managed it and thought of a few things I hadn't originally planned, but it turned out fine.

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Chapter Five:

**L'Enfer de Draco**

"**Draco's Hell"**

Draco hadn't expected the next few days to be pleasant, but he'd by far underestimated the severity. He was in hell. True hell.

The Slytherins saw his surprising sorting as nothing less than betrayal and reacted accordingly. He could bear that though. It was just mild things. But when they realized who exactly he intended to protect they became enraged. Being a Gryffindor was offensive and traitorous, but protecting the-boy-who-should-be-dead was nothing short of heresy. And heretics were not acceptable in Wizarding Society. By the time Friday rolled around he'd been to the Hospital Wing no less than eight times.

Draco gritted his teeth as another shard of pain went through his left shoulder. He was quite certain it had been almost dislocated if the great purple bruise that covered half his back was an indication. It curled around his shoulder and onto some of his chest. And on top of that his muscles had stiffened over night so now he could barely move without wincing. Much less carry his book bag. The only thing that saved his dignity was a quick bet made with Weasley. Draco had won of course and now the grumbling red head carried his things for him.

Potter though was annoyingly observant and continually pestered the blond to go see Madam Pomfrey. Only after making a promise to see her after Potions would the scrawny bugger leave him alone. They were headed towards the class when Draco slipped away claiming he needed to pee. A deeply horrifying word to utter. The others had rushed away reluctantly leaving Draco alone for the first time all week. Draco let his shoulders relax only to flinch as his muscles protested.

Draco briskly removed his robe to reveal the white shirt underneath. With ginger care he managed to get his shirt over his head and let it fall off his arms to join the robe on the floor. His lips pressed together in a tight line and his gently began massaging his shoulder to relax the muscles. The resulting pain blinded him and made him grip the sink for support. Draco hissed, his knees were shivering and sweat covered his brow. Alright, he thought valiantly fighting against the dulling throb. Touching is a definite no.

Draco grimaced at his reflection, both from pain and what he found. His pale skin was an almost ashen gray. His eyes were bright and almost feverish looking. His pale blond hair was laying against his head damp from sweat in a tangled mess. He looked horrible. As if the slightest breeze could knock him over.

Baring his teeth at his reflection he combed the hair away from his face, revealing a widow's peak. He smoothed it down neatly and turned the facet on. He was lucky enough to get one with warm water. Draco soaked his shirt deciding he didn't need it with his robe on. Picking up the hot garment he laid it on his sore muscles. It stung, but it helped. Draco closed his eyes and leaned against the cool sink. He could do this he knew he could.

Draco slowly slipped his still damp shirt back on. He kept the heat in it with the preservation charm his house elf nanny, Dobby, had taught him. House elves used it to keep their dinners warm until their masters returned. Draco on the other hand was more creative about it. The only problem was it would also remain wet. But all he needed was to keep the water from seeping through his robes. Thankfully Mother had made sure Draco's robes were water roof. Something he'd discovered worked both ways. His wet clothes wouldn't show through.

Draco left slowly. The halls were empty and he knew he would be late if he did not hurry. But his footsteps still slowed. It was as if they felt his reluctance to enter this particular class and were dragged down by it. This was the worst thing he'd been through, yet.

How was he supposed to go there? When he couldn't face the man who'd been like a second father to him? When he was ashamed of this desperate move all at once, not because he was playing with Potter but because it would hurt Severus? When he felt like a vile worm that deserved to be squished?

But of course he had to.

He was a Slytherin in lion's clothing.

He was a Malfoy.

There was no choice.

When he entered the room his only reprieve was that Severus wasn't there yet. Unfortunately the only seat left was beside Granger. Draco sat down ignoring her and the hateful look she sent his way. Their relationship had not improved. Then Severus entered looking the all over coldly, before stopping on Draco.

Draco met Severus's gaze keeping his mask firm and his mind carefully blank. Severus turned sharply without another word. Without another look. As if Draco wasn't there.

The rejection of his very presence hit Draco harder than he thought possible, but he didn't show it. He simply sat down and watched like a lazy cat. Bored and above it all. As any true Malfoy would. He watched, but on the inside he was cold and it felt like he was bleeding from some invisible wound. He watched Potter give the right answers, and Draco only felt a dim satisfaction that his work had paid off and the boy knew it

Severus was vicious. He was mean tempered. He was strict. He demanded respect. He pulled them along by their noses, Slytherins and Gryffindors alike, as they brewed their first potion. Draco was paired with Granger who insisted on doing all the work. He agreed not up to fighting and turned around to talk to Longbottom, stopping the boy in time to stop a disastrous mistake. Granger and his potion was perfect. Absolute superb. Severus glanced at it and said nothing, meaning he agreed with Draco's assessment. But it was a cold acknowledgement and not once did he look at Draco. Not once.

When he turned away from the potion his dark eyes skimming to the next one the quill in Draco's hand broke. Not once did Draco's smirk waver either, it grew tighter, wider. But when Severus looked away Draco thought he would cry for the first time in forever.

"What's wrong with you?" Granger hissed under her breath as Severus walked away.

Draco glared at the girl and her furious look faltered. He must have looked truly dreadful at that moment for Granger to shut up. Draco bright back up his smirk quickly.

"Nothing at all Rat de bibliothèque," he told her happily. "Other than your presence that is."

Granger's nostrils flared at this and her brown eyes narrowed. "It isn't exactly peachy being with you either you stupid git." The girl snarled.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the girl's anger. It was usually so difficult to make her snap. Draco clicked his tongue in false disapproval, glad of the distraction.

"Now, now Granger you don't want Severus to get on to you, for disrespecting your classmate. Do you?" Draco drawled at pleasantly.

"Oh, and I suppose you'll make him?" she sneered in a surprisingly Slytherin fashion. Then she continued cruelly, "He doesn't exactly look to happy with _you_."

Draco slapped her.

It was a nice hard slap that he put all the strength he could muster into. Enough to send Granger flying back. It also made the most satisfying sharp sound he ever heard in his hot boiling moment of rage. But it hurt like hell, Draco having used his left arm to do it.

He felt nothing, but dark satisfaction until Granger looked at him. Her brown eyes were wide. But completely dry despite how much he knew it had hurt. Her lips were bleeding having hit the floor and busted, but the thing that struck Draco most was how tiny she looked. How petite and feminine.

The horror and guilt he felt in the next moments was nauseating. Draco froze looking down at her hand still in the air. He'd just hit a girl, his horror filled mind told him. He'd hit a girl, both smaller and weaker than him. Draco felt vomit rise in his throat, burning and disgusting. His parents would kill him.

"_Draco,_" a soft deadly voice rang out of the silent room. Looking up slowly, as if in a dream he saw Severus's livid face. Lips pulled back against his teeth in an almost snarl, black eyes boring into him cold and penetratingly. Draco didn't have to make his mind go blank. It already was frozen from the disgust he felt welling in him.

"Go. To. The. Headmaster." Severus managed to get out through clenched jaws. Draco stood blinking at him dumbly and looked back down at Granger.

She wasn't looking at him and was wobbly getting to her feet, with Potter's help. Green eyes looked at him solemnly, disapprovingly. Weasley could only gape stupidly, stunned.

"_Now!_" Severus snarled, sending Draco flying from the room.

_Shit. Merde. Merde. Shit._ Draco thought distraught and switching between the two languages without a second thought. Soon he was chanting the words under his breath the entire long run to through the halls. Draco came to an abrupt stop in the Transfiguration hall. He'd just realized he had no idea where the Headmaster's office was and had been running blind in his panic.

Falling against the stone wall Draco sank to ground and buried his face in his hands. He was such and idiot, such a stupid, stupid idiot. The one thing his parents would never forgive him for and he'd done it. The one thing Severus (until he betrayed him) would never forgive him. You were not supposed to strike a girl unless in self defense. Granger's insults did not call for such a reaction. Vomit burned it way up the blonde's throat.

His parents had always spoken of the horrors they'd seen in their own families. His mother's favorite cousin had been abused by her husband. Draco's grandmother had been abused by his Malfoy grandfather to the point she wouldn't even breathe without her husband's consent. That had been one of the reasons Lucius hated his father so much. The worst thing is he knew that move would trigger praise from most purebloods, which still had a medieval view on women and marriage. It was also the same thing that had made the Malfoys different from the other families in their circles. Spousal abuse was a common and accepted practice amoung the pureblood elite.

And now he'd hit a girl.

Draco's eyes began to sting and he bit his lip to distract himself. The sharp pain worked and after a few moments he was calm enough to get shakily to his feet. He needed to get to the Headmaster, which meant he needed help finding him. He would have to ask someone.

Draco instinctively balked at the idea. He did not want to be seen in such a state. Eyes puffy and clearly upset. But if he stayed here he would have to face the older Slytherins. He'd memorized their schedules in order to avoid them and some of his worst tormentors were in Transfiguration right now. Draco stiffened hearing footsteps behind him. He jumped to his feet and instantly bit back a moan of pain, hands jumping to his shoulder, which had stiffened painfully while he sat.

"My boy why aren't you in class right now?" a concerned Professor Flitwick questioned. He would have to due the blonde decided.

"You see, sir, Professor Snape sent me to the headmaster's Office, but I don't know where it is." Draco said with a forced polite calm. At least now his expression and voice contrasted sharply enough with his appearance to convince some he was fine.

The short teacher frowned, but his eyes were sympathetic and kind. Draco didn't trust them at once. He's week had been too horrible for anyone to be truly kind. He was taken by surprise though.

"I'll take you, but first I need to stop by the Hospital Wing to pick up something from Madam Pomfrey." Flitwick told him seeing his shoulder pointedly. Draco was grateful for Flitwick having enough people skills to know better than to openly mention the shoulder and for his small, startling kindness. He followed the teacher eyes watering for a different reason. By the time Flitwick looked over his shoulder to check on Draco the Blonde had hid it, but judging by Flitwick's soft smile the gratefulness still showed on his expression.

"Chocolate Frog," Flitwick said an hour later to a wall where two Gargoyles sat. A few moments later a spiral staircase was revealed.

Flitwick turned to look at Draco with what could only be described as a furious look. Draco didn't react. Flitwick had stayed despite Draco's protests and had seen the wounds he'd received. The little teacher had snapped and instantly demanded to know who did it, while Madam Pomfrey stood nearby cold agreement written across her icy expression. Draco had refused like always and neither adult had been pleased with his stubborn refusals to name his attackers.

Flitwick sighed a moment later and stretched to place a hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco looked at the teacher confused by the sudden reaction, but saw only sadness in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Draco. So very sorry." he told him eyes pained.

Draco simply starred at him uncomprehending as to where the words were coming from. Flitwick didn't elaborate though and shooed Draco up the stairs. Draco obeyed, but turned to watch the little teacher walking away with a deep sadness written in his suddenly decades older face. Still not completely understanding what had triggered it Draco walked up the steps with the same dread he was sure Anne Boleyn had felt walking to the chopping block. Draco almost laughed at the irony of a pureblood comparing himself to a Muggle queen, but it died in his throat at the sight of the door.

It was just a doorknob. He knew that very well, but at the moment it looked more sinister and intimidating than anything. He had to open it though. Malfoys weren't cowards, despite what others claimed. They just had a keen sense of self preservation. If he didn't open it, it would be even worse later. Draco reached for the knob.

"Enter," a gentle voice said behind the door causing Draco to flinch, but he didn't pause his reach. He gripped the door knob, turned it and gave it a push. The room revealed to him was something he'd find amazing to see on any other day. But the dread that made him cold and the blank calmness on the Headmaster's face stopped it. Draco couldn't move though, simply staring at the man.

"Sit Draco," Dumbledore said loosening Draco from his trance. The boy's eye instantly went to the floor avoiding the Headmaster's. Draco sat in the chair opposite of the desk Dumbledore sat at. A cold ran its way down Draco's spine as if a hand that had been held in a snowdrift was tracing it.

The silence was tangible.

"You struck another student," Dumbledore said with a knowing softness and condemnation. Or at least to Draco's ears it was condemning.

Draco nodded unable to speak. No sense of denying it.

"A Muggleborn student named Hermione Granger."

Draco nodded again examining the graining of the wooden desk and finding the swirling shapes in its dark almost reflectively smooth surface.

"Why?"

The word hung in the air simple and horrible.

"I don't know sir."

Dumbledore remained silent a few moments and Draco almost looked to see the man's expression, but stopped himself. If he looked up he'd meet piercing blue eyes. And if he met those blue eyes he wouldn't be able to look away and the man would know everything.

"You do not know Draco?" the man said in his quietly horrible voice, that made you want to look up at him and plead for forgiveness even if you hadn't done a wrong.

"No sir." Draco replied stubbornly.

There was another silence.

"If you are sure you don't know…" Dumbledore paused waiting for an answer. The man sighed. "Then I have know choice, but to punish you Mr. Malfoy. Detention for three weeks, with Mr. Filch."

Draco nodded and waited to be dismissed.

The old man sighed again, but this one sounded more wistful than disappointed. "You may go."

Draco got up to leave, but stopped halfway across the room. The blonde closed his eyes and only half decided opened his mouth to speak. "If I take on another three weeks will you not tell my parents?"

The pause was the longest yet.

"I'm sorry, but your parents must be informed Mr. Malfoy." Draco felt his stomach drop and swallowed the cold lump in his throat to reply.

"Of course."

Draco left without another word.


	7. 6

**AN: I'm finishing this story before I work seriously on my other ones, so I'm sure all of you who love Draco will be pleased. I've got most of it planned out and thought this one is a bit shorter I hope you enjoy it.

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Chapter Six:

**Exclus**

"**Outcasts"**

Draco doubted he'd ever felt so alone in his life. The rest of Gryffindor House, after hearing of his slapping Granger and not the circumstances behind it, was giving him the cold shoulder. The Slytherins also, for whatever, reason had dropped the extreme measures and preceded to settle for mental abuse. The first yeas in particular were especially cool. To their eyes it had been the pureblood bigot they were giving a chance slap an innocent Muggleborn _girl_ smaller than him. Not that much smaller of course, Draco wanted to point out since he was also slender and felt some need to defend himself. But the fact remained Draco had stricken a Muggleborn girl for seemingly no reason at all.

His parents' response wasn't helping. The mere thought of his mother was enough to make his heart plunge now. Narcissa would never have sent a howler, like other Wizarding mothers. No, his mother kept family business between the family. Her letter arrived the next day tied to Paracelsus pointedly lacking in a small sweet or surprise she would send him. Weasley turned instinctively when he saw the owl, (Draco had been sharing everything with him and Potter) but caught himself and turned away.

Draco felt bitterness well up in his mouth at the sight of the red head looking down at the table uncomfortably. Potter and Weasley weren't speaking to him. And from the looks of things it was Potter's decision, to Draco's surprise. Potter's green eyes looked down at his food coldly, making Draco realize Potter was aware of his gaze. Turning away Draco opened the letter heart iron with dread. There were six neatly written words.

_We'll talk during break._

_Narcissa Malfoy_

The letter made Draco colder than his shock after slapping Granger. There was no love in this letter and it was almost as if he could hear her utter disappointment and shame through it. He'd folded it and left quickly. By himself, as he would be forever it seemed.

But even in Draco's bad mood he couldn't help, but note the ironic part of the situation. Though they were all up in arms over his striking of Granger none had yet to try and befriend the girl. She was simply a catalyst for their prejudices and dislike of him. It was a cruel thing to do. Defending her so vehemently while leaving her alone in the world. This cruel Irony didn't make Draco feel any better, in fact the hypocrisy of the action only further served to darken his mood.

Granger, if anything, looked to dislike the reactions as much as Draco and seem bewildered by the comradeship when Draco was near and the distance when he was away. Everyday he would see her hiding out in the library completely alone, hiding behind those books. He doubted she realized it, but every time a group of friends passed by her eyes would shine and her lips would tighten. Then at exactly four everyday except weekends she would leave to go hide out in the Girls Dormitories until dinner.

Draco, who also spent an exceptional amount of his time in the library, watched this occur everyday. Draco also found himself spending quite a bit of time in the underground harbor. It was quiet dark and nobody ventured there giving him some peace. And the sound of the water was oddly calming. He'd found how to create little balls of floating light from the books he was reading in his alone time (Which consisted of all the time nowadays.) and it was now quite nicely lighted.

At least Draco's grades were better than ever. In fact he kept asking for extra just so he could have something to fill in the time. He was about three weeks ahead in Transfiguration (McGonagall had been oddly sympathetic.), a month ahead in Charms, and actually learning the History of Magic curriculum on his own. But even so he didn't answer in any of his classes and the teachers had stopped calling on him.

To put it simply Draco's life had become rather depressing. And there were no signs of it getting any better anytime soon.

…

Draco was glad Longbottom had ruined his potion that day. The teachers had effectively cut him off and he wasn't in the mood to teach himself about Wizarding History, no matter how interesting it was without Binns. The four foot essay he and the Gryffindor had to finish by next week he was relishing, because of its difficulty. He was checking all the information he found in at least three other books on the same topic to make it as accurate as possible and to draw it out.

He also had volunteered to write Longbottom's essay and was debating on what grade to give it. He was considering a seventy-five, but a sixty-five was more realistic. Draco's pride pricked and he decided to make it an eighty. Longbottom's hurried recopying would cause a few words to be misspelled and make it seem more realistic. Let Severus think Draco had helped him.

In the middle of it his quill broke and he frowned. It was an expensive quill and should have lasted at least six months. Draco frowned and looked down at his hands his nails were stained with ink. When had that happened? Confused he dropped the quill. Hadn't he washed them? He was certain he'd taken a bath last night. No, last night he'd lingered in his harbor and fell asleep there. It hadn't been much sleep either. Horrified Draco realized he was wearing yesterday's clothing. Draco jumped to his feet and stumbled away from the table.

What was happening to him? Had he honestly become so depressed he stopped carrying. Shivering Draco realized it was true. And it had only taken a few days. No, that wasn't quite true he'd been depressed and angry all summer. This had just been the catalyst that took away his only reasons for not sinking under. His mission with Potter had kept him afloat oddly enough. Alone Draco was… He shivered. He didn't like what he was alone. Draco felt very self aware and older at that moment and knew he had to find companionship, somewhere. _Anywhere_.

"M-Malfoy," a quiet voice stuttered and Draco stiffened. He turned to find Granger looking at him guilty and worried. His normal reaction would have been to blame every bad thing on her, but he was still too out of it to have the energy.

"Yes?" he asked dazed. The girl bit her lip suddenly refusing to look at him.

"It's, j-just," she bit her lip again and suddenly began to tear up, causing Draco's heart to jump in his throat. Even in his state he knew getting caught with a crying Granger would not help.

"Granger?" he asked reaching out awkwardly. This only made her sniffle and a tear to roll down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry!" she wailed and Draco thanked every Saint in Heaven Madam Pince was elsewhere.

"Sorry?" he asked confused, trying to think of someway to stop her crying. She didn't answer instead just continuing to blubber, large tears streaming. Beginning to truly panic now and having the intense desire to shut her up Draco did the only thing he could think of. He pulled her into a hug.

It didn't have the effect he desired. She just wrapped her arms around him and cried in his shoulder. Well at least his body muffled it a bit. He looked around glad he'd chosen an empty out of the way place. Finally after an eternity for Draco she quieted to a quiet sniffle. He nervously patted her back until she abruptly stepped way. She looked up at him confused after she wiped her eyes.

"That was nice," she told him sounding surprised and suddenly was close to tears once more. "I didn't think you'd be nice." Her voice was despondent, but to Draco's relief she didn't cry again.

"Can you please tell me what you're sorry for?" he asked delicately watching her as one would a dangerous wild animal. Draco did not like crying girls in the least. Granger looked guilty again.

"I was apologizing for everything." He gestured for her to continue still confused. Her lip trembled a bit as she did.

"E-Everything they're doing to you is my fault. It's my fault everyone's mad. It's my fault Harry and Ron left you. And it's my fault you hit me. I never should have been so mean when you looked so horrible!" she wailed looking thoroughly horrified with herself. Draco was speechless and couldn't think of anything to say to this announcement. Her eyes began to shine again and he hurried to reply.

"It's fine." He told her calmly. "I should never have struck a girl under in circumstances. My actions were the one's that were inexcusable."

Hermione snorted disbelievingly and gave him a sad look. He panicked a minute before thinking of something.

"But if you are determined to accept all the blame, which you really shouldn't," he assured her, though judging by her look she knew that wasn't entirely sincere. "I accept you apology."

This seemed to relieve her and suddenly she looked a bit shy. Draco had no idea what to say so the situation soon grew awkward. After a few moments Granger looked at him with suddenly determined brown eyes.

"I'm going to make it up to you," she told him vehemently. "If they see us together and I tell everyone _I_ provoked you and you apologized they'll calm down."

Draco highly doubted that would work, but then again Gryffindors weren't exactly the brightest of people. Perhaps the simple plan would work. But would Draco risk his reputation. It was true he'd hung around Potter and Weasley. But Weasley was a pure-blood and the Potters were a respected pure-blood family and they were cousins. If he could find a way to finish his debt he could redeem himself in the eyes of pureblood society. But associating with a Mudblood…

Draco looked at Granger's earnest gaze and depressingly realized it was his own fault for asking for companionship from _anywhere_. Well, if he was going to hell he might as well do it thoroughly. And what was more thorough than a Mudblood.

"Sure." He told her calmly and she beamed at him wetly. "But first we need to clean you up."

It was true she was a horrid sight all splotchy, nose snotty and crusty, and eyes swollen and red. Granger looked startled as he drew his wand and warned her to remain still. His mind set with her was very much like his with Potter and Weasley. Just because he was forced to associate with her did not mean her appearance would be permitted to shame him. Granger's eyes went wide as he cast the first charm.

…

Surprisingly being with Granger was rather freeing. Her guilt over his hell had pacified her natural bossy nature for now and she was actually able to hold a decent conversation. She did become a little miffed every time he pointed out an inaccuracy or how she could make her position stronger, while gong over her homework. But in all honesty it was amusing to see her pride prick every now and again. Plus her presence helped him not sink back.

The Gryffindors reactions had been pleasing. Weasley had literally spat out his pumpkin juice and several others had gagged on food. Draco had been vindictively pleased to see Lavender Brown choke on a piece of toast. The brat had talked like she was above him to his face in the most irritating snotty tone. Potter on the other hand had been worrisome. His face had remained blank even when Weasley looked at him pleadingly. Well looked like Weasley was more attached than Draco gave him credit for.

The Slytherins hadn't exactly changed much, beyond adding Mudblood Lover to their arsenal of insults. Draco, who by now wanted them all to burn in hell, took greet pleasure in slapping Granger in their faces and insulting them in anyway he could. But he would bide his time until he took his real revenge on them. After all he maybe a Gryffindor on the outside, but titles were only skin deep. On the inside he was pure Slytherin. And Slytherins always had revenge.

Draco almost gave up on his ability to repair his relationship with Potter until four days after he'd started his partnership with Granger. Potter had caught him alone in the dormitories looking repentant, but firm. After apologizing for his behavior and Draco forgiving him, he'd said something that surprised and confused Draco.

"I just can't stand watching guys hit girls. Or anyone hit someone weaker than them." He said darkly and Draco wondered what that knowing tone in Potter's voice was. He put it out of his mind though. His mission was back on and he had recovery work to do.


	8. 7

**Chapter Seven:**

**Lutte ou Méthode de Vol**

"**Fight or Flight Method"**

"Why are you obsessing over the Slytherins?" Draco snapped finally. Potter stopped his fidgeting and threw him an annoyed look, something that surprised the blonde. Potter hadn't shown his even less than pleasing face since they're 'touching' reunion.

"Why are you obsessed with my hair?" Potter snarled back. Draco froze and simply stared at the boy. Something was definitely wrong. Even Weasley gaped at him and he was usually to preoccupied with his stomach to notice anything else when food was within a nine yard radius.

"Because my goal in life is to tame it," Draco drawled dryly eyeing the mess of hair disdainfully. He'd tried a new potion recently, an extra strength one, but to no avail. Potter blushed and looked away at that response.

"Just drop it Draco." He said with a pleading note in his voice. Weasley was frowning thoughtfully.

"Non, tell me or I will be forced to perform inspections in public. In the Great Hall._ Every day_." Even Weasley paled at that, causing Draco to sniff as he took offense.

All his inspections consisted of was fixing every flaw in their appearance so they wouldn't embarrass him. True they accused him of being girly for wanting them to look good, but neither was stupid enough to try and stop him. Not after Weasley had run off with horrible bed hair and Draco had been forced to petrify him, rather than let him go in public. They complained worse than Granger when he did her. And she actually cried from pain because the curling charm he used pulled on her hair horribly. Potter was even worse since Draco had started his war on Potter's hair. He would conquer it if it's the last thing he did.

"I agree with Draco, come on Harry?" Weasley pleaded blue eyes pleading. Potter caved under the combined pressure. Draco decided he would need to work on making both of the simpletons more resistant to persuasion. At least from everyone except him anyway.

"I just don't want to make a fool of myself in front of them. It's bad enough-" but Potter stopped eyeing Draco warily. The blonde scowled.

"Bad enough what?" he questioned, furious something had been going on under his watch. Weasley's eyes widened and he shifted uncomfortably.

"W-Well, er, when we weren't talking, they, eh, started messing with me some." Potter admitted looking up at him pathetically sheepish.

Draco's pride roared up. Both Gryffindors stared at him confused at the absolute fury and indignation marring his features. Draco had known the Slytherins didn't think him as their Prince any more. He'd even been harassed by them. But now it really struck him how little they seemed to recall the respect the combined heir to the Malfoy and Black lineage was owed. If it had been any other half blood Draco had taken interest in and given protection they would have been wary. But none of them. None of them, would have dared hurt something Draco owned.

He was something of Draco's and it was a direct slap in the face to the pride of Malfoy and Black that he was being disrespected. Draco even refused to take into account that they'd been raised since birth to hate him and that he'd destroyed the Dark Lord. No, this was to great a slight against Draco's well developed pride to accept.

"Who?" Draco questioned voice bland. Potter's green eyes were bright and wide. The boy seemed conflicted, but after a moment he spoke.

"Theodore Nott." He admitted looking incredibly guilty as he spoke. Draco literally flinched at the name. Would the insults never cease?

The Notts were a respected pureblood family. A tight nit, loyal people who kept to themselves and had a quiet passiveness that allowed them to get through any conflict unfazed and unscathed. But what the family lacked despite all their respectability and friendships with prestigious families was history. The Nott's were new blood as far as pure bloods went only tracing their family back to the mid 1700's. And though they had finally been fully breed into the pureblood society when their patriarch married the heiress to a family tracing its own ancestry back to the 400's they still weren't the same standard as the ancient Black or Malfoy lines.

To have him of all people take Draco's place was unforgiveable. Completely and utterly unpardonable.

…

The Bête was grinning like a cat who was about to toy with its freshly caught prey. Granger looked like she was going to grab a live cobra not a broom. Longbottom looked as if he would throw up. Potter eyed the broom with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. Nott looked mildly frightened through his calm façade. Weasley looked first at Draco then Nott, before taking a step back as if to get out of firing range. Madame Hooch looked between both groups of students, before looking heavenward as if in silent prayer.

Draco watched Nott with furious, slits of gray. Now he was stuck not only on the Slytherin side, but being near the little worm. He was vindictively pleased to note how ill at ease Nott looked. Not only was he stubbornly avoiding looking at Draco, but the dark circles under his eyes proved Nott wasn't settling in well.

Potter whispered something to Weasley on the other side, catching Nott's attention. Draco watched intently as Nott's blank faced twitched with disdain, before fading back into his pale mask. Only Nott's eyes still showed emotion and not the unease Draco had seen before. Nott had clearly forgotten to worry about Draco's displeasure, focusing instead solely on Potter and Weasley. Nott's eyes glimmered like dark stones, smooth and deep, deep brown.

Draco's face darkened instantly.

Someone poked him in the ribs. Jerking, Draco hissed and turned his hot gray eyes to meet a pair of cooly amused green-hazel ones. Bête.

Blaise Zabini looked as happy as when he heard the news that another one of his step-fathers had died of a 'tragic accident' leaving his mother and he increasingly large amounts of wealth and estates.

"You look ready to kill little Teddy," Blaise said with false innocence, being, even if Draco hated him, improperly familiar with a classmate Draco knew he had little contact with.

Draco glowered at him and Blaise's eyes instantly brightened.

"Is your replacement's pedigree not to you liking?" he asked with false sympathy and sweetness. The only thing that ruined the act was his mocking smirk and the delighted look in his eyes.

Draco twitched a little at 'replacement'.

"I'm so glad I could entertain you," Draco hissed forcing himself to turn away from his annoyance.

"No need to be so sensitive." Blaise chided.

Draco wondered, mournfully, why the only time the Bête was talkative was when he was annoying Draco.

"Just shut it Bête," Draco told him, glaring firmly at the ground and trying to fight the urge to hit Blaise.

The only response was silence. Madam Hooch seemed to have decided to take advantage of the quiet and launched into instructions. Draco ignored her instead choosing to steal a glance at Blaise.

The boy was looking at Draco as if Draco had just announced he was engaged to his house elf Dobby. It took Draco a moment to realize what exactly he'd done to cause the unprecedented reaction. Draco had never called Blaise the name he'd always mentally referred to him as. Merde, he cursed, he hadn't told anyone the names he called them by. Well except Granger, but she couldn't speak French. Plus she wasn't included under the rigid rules of decorum involved in pureblood society.

For a second Draco felt horrified. You did not break your mask. Not even around those you thought were trustworthy. Especially not around those you disliked. There were specific guidelines to dealing with annoyance like Blaise. And they did not include insulting, out loud, Purebloods of the same status and affluence.

Then something clicked inside Draco. He wasn't part of that society anymore. The thought was revolutionary to him. All his life he'd followed them, had his actions dictated by years of tradition without even realizing it. And now he'd broken his mold from pure desperation. The rules didn't apply anymore. Draco's breath caught in his throat. He could say anything he wanted. Draco released his breath and smiled at Blaise daring him to comment on Draco's words. He hoped he would so Draco could let lose years of words he'd bit his tongue to stifle.

The shock had faded by now into a thoughtful expression, which disappeared the instant Draco's scrutiny was noticed. The owner of those green-hazel eyes took in Draco's fierce, defiant expression and did something unexpected.

He laughed.

Quiet spread through the air and Madam Hooch gave Blaise a stern look with her golden gaze. The boy ignored her until he'd finished and then gave the woman a borderline disrespectful look, since he still looked ready to laugh at any second.

"Would you like to explain what you found so funny Zabini?" the woman snapped sharply, appearing in front of them suddenly, clearly less than pleased at her student's reaction. The class watched captivated as Blaise seemed to force his amusement from his face. He succeeded for the most part, though it lingered in his eyes and smile.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I was just reminded of something my friend had told me. I hadn't meant any disrespect." Blaise said looking sufficiently contrite for his crime. The woman's gaze lingered for a moment, but then she tuned sharply away.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch called as she walked back to the front, "and say 'UP!'"

"UP!" Draco said along with everyone else. Draco felt more than a little confused, and barely felt the wood smack harshly against his palm. His fingers curled around the broom, and he realized that only he, Potter, and the Greengrass girl had their brooms leap up first thing.

Draco blinked and quickly turned to Blaise, who'd gotten his broom the third time. The boy still had that amused smile, although a very small smile, lacing his lips.

"Why did you laugh?" Draco hissed quietly. Blaise gave him a long, slow look; eyes looking greener every second.

"It was just in that second I realized Gryffindors were good for something." Blaise drawled out eyes glowing as incredulousness bloomed on Draco's features.

"After all they managed to make you finally snap out of that icy little shell pureblood ideals and propriety kept you in." Blaise paused and the smile grew larger. "Besides, you're a lot less of an ass this way. Not as holier-than-thou. Or at least a more bearable version."

Draco simply stared, but before he could say anything Madam Hooch appeared and was correcting their grips. Draco could only think over Blaise's words with her there. And honestly they scared him a little. True, he'd felt an intense satisfaction at being able to say what ever the bloody hell he wanted, but that didn't mean he was going to change completely. And the way the Bête was talking he'd already changed.

Draco hadn't changed. He hadn't. Then again if you'd told him a few months ago he would actually sometimes, rarely, enjoy the company of a Mudblood he would have called you a blood-traitor and insane. But honestly he was desperate, not changed. Although he didn't insult Potter nearly as much now as he did before. Or even Weasley for that matter. But that was simply because he didn't wish to; he could if he wanted. Draco Malfoy wasn't changed and he didn't plan to be. Besides how would Blaise even now if he was less of an ass when he could speak his mind. Draco had always lived by those rules, until now anyway. He couldn't think of a single time he's broken out before.

Except…

Except on the day he'd learned he was related to Potter. He'd seen the Bête that day and he'd yelled at him, not really giving a damn about the consequences. Afterwards they'd actually talked without much hostility, after all Draco had gotten all he'd wanted to say out. Draco could remember saying some less than Pureblood friendly things at that time. He'd caught himself eventually though and quickly recanted everything he'd said. But he supposed the damage had been done. Draco had been anxious for days that Blaise would tell and Draco would have shamed the family. When a month passed without incident Draco put the talk out of his mind. Afterward he'd more than ever followed the rules. He didn't want his need to talk, well yell at someone, anyone, his confusion to effect the family.

Apparently the Bête hadn't forgotten.

Draco looked at Blaise feeling more and more like he knew nothing about him. Turning away and vowing to think about it later, Blaise did as the hawk-faced woman said, not really caring she corrected his grip in front of everyone.

It then took all of five minutes for it all to go to hell. Longbottom broke his wrist, Nott decided to do some grandstanding (probably giving in to reassure to prove his worth), and Potter, being the _dumbass_ he was, decided to play hero before getting dragged off by th Queen Lioness herself.

"I'm sure she won't really expel him," Granger said patting Draco's shoulder in an attempt of comfort, not long afterwards, as they all sat in the Great Hall. Draco simply began banging his head against the table, cursing Potter long and good in French.

"She's right mate," Weasley agreed, looking more than a little upset about Hermione's proximity. "They wouldn't be that harsh."

"He is a _dumbass_ who just had to play hero." Draco snarled, only leaving the insult in French.

"Well he couldn't just let the Slytherins take Neville's stuff." Weasley said sounding indignant at the thought. Draco stopped to wallow in utter disgust at such a Gryffindor-ish sentiment.

"He should have told a teacher," Granger said sensibly. "They would have gotten it back from them and Harry wouldn't have gotten in such big trouble. Oh, Draco I'm sure it's not that much trouble, stop hurting yourself."

"I'm going to kill him," Draco resolved firmly glaring up at the both of them as his cheek lay against the table. "I will string him up by his toes and let all the blood rush to his head and then kill him."

Weasley looked a little startled and Granger rolled her eyes. Draco snorted and muttered something unflattering in French under his breath. He wasn't unsure who it was directed at he was annoyed with the lot of them.

"Oh, stop it," Granger snapped seeming to have finally had her fill. Weasley stared at her wide eyed.

"Your dramatics are no longer amusing. Harry will be fine and I'm not going to comfort you like you're some unruly child. So stop mollycoddling and get in shape." She paused and gave him a stare that was almost Slytherin. "I'm embarrassed to be seen with you. If you are going to be around me, you have to look better than some ragamuffin on the streets."

Weasley's mouth dropped and he looked a little disapproving and Draco wasn't sure rather to be amused at Granger's attempt to kick him in shape through his pride or to check and see if he really did look so awful. Draco decided on amused even as he straightened his robes. He was fairly certain that was almost word from word what he'd said to her the second day of their 'friendship'.

Granger seemed pleased, and more than a little vindicated, "Look there, here he comes."

Sure enough Potter was heading towards them with an almost ecstatic expression.

"Now," she announced loftily, standing with an imperious air. "I'm heading to the library."

Weasley watched her looking perplexed and amazed before turning back towards Draco accusingly.

"You are a terrible influence, she sounded just like you," Weasley said in an almost reproving tone. Draco laughed and stood with a smirk growing on his face.

"Where are you going?" Weasley asked looking down at Potter pointedly.

"I'm going to annoy Granger," Draco answered smirk growing. "I can't just let her get away with that."

Weasley shook his head in what looked like a mixture of amazement and mystification. "You are the oddest person I've ever met mate, and I'm related to Fred and George. You have the weirdest friendships too."

Draco shrugged.

"Tell Potter I'll scold him later." Draco called marching away quickly and passing a bewildered Potter as he went, his eyes trained firmly on the curly haired figure retreating from the hall.


	9. 8

**Chapter Eight:**

**Le Duel**

"The Duel**"**

"Draco," a voice whispered softly into Draco's ear. The boy sighed, burying his face deeply in his pillow. "Draco." He felt so warm with his blankets wrapped tightly around him. It would be heaven if a gnat didn't stop whispering in his ear. Draco quickly forgot about the gnat, which sounded suspiciously like Granger, when he felt his hands take a hold of a Nimbus 2000. He was soaring under the sun, perfectly free and at pea-

A bludger hit him sharply in the face and Draco jerked up. Granger was looking down at him nervously, but her mouth was pursed in disapproval. It took him a moment to realize Granger was in the boys dormitory. It took him another minute to accept the fact that _Granger was in the boys dorms._ It was enough for Draco to wonder if he was still dreaming. Having a nightmare was more exact given the contents. The girl looked a bit embarrassed, but determined.

Without thinking past how bad it would be if the other boys saw her, Draco pulled Granger towards him. But even as he was waving his wand to close the curtains there foreheads smashed together. Fortunately Draco's pillow muffled her shriek of pain. Unfortunately that was because Draco had been hit hard enough to fly back.

_She has a hard head. _His first thought before he untangled himself. Draco quickly jumped to cover the girl's mouth with his hand before she could wake up the others. She went still, stopping her wriggling attempts to escape the blanket she'd managed to entangle herself in. The girl glared at Draco her forehead distinctly pink and already swollen even in the dim light. Then she glared at the blanket. Rolling his eyes at Granger's lost battle with the inanimate object; Draco peeked out from behind the curtains.

No one had moved. In two beds no one was there to move. Draco strangled back a shriek and proceeded to hide back in the bed. He made sure the curtains were firmly hiding them from view before turning to a very disapproving Granger.

"You know where those (_dumbasses_) went." Draco said, barely managing to keep his voice a whisper. Granger nodded and leaned foreword following his example.

"I overheard them in Charms talking about a duel with Nott. They noticed me, but not before I heard where they were headed." Granger whispered sounding triumphant at this accomplishment. Draco decided to think of this later.

Draco nodded and the girl continued clearly enjoying her audience, or more likely having someone listening to her who didn't hate her.

"Apparently, Nott approached Harry and Ron right after you'd left to bother me. He started harassing them, well more Ronald really. Harry final snapped when he said something very rude about you. Nott seemed to get upset, probably because he was showed up in front of the Slytherins. Nott's face went blank and you could se he was angry. After a few seconds he challenged Harry to a Wizard's duel. Harry, of course, didn't know about it, but Ron jumped in claiming to be Harry's second and asking who was Nott's. One of the Slytherin boys, I couldn't find out who, stepped up saying he was Nott's, and saying to meet in the trophy room—"

"At midnight." Draco finished slamming his fist against the pillow.

Granger nodded as she took a deep breath. It said how serious he situation was that the girl did not look annoyed at being interrupted. Draco groaned and ground his teeth.

"What?" Granger asked looking worried.

"That is the oldest trick in Slytherin House. He's going to find Filch waiting for him." Draco told her voice tight.

"Are you sure?" Granger questioned looking half hopeful. Draco bristled without thinking. He'd forgotten how much Granger disliked Weasley, clearly she thought Potter was an acceptable casualty if her enemy got in trouble.

"How do you know what happened?" Draco challenged annoyed, and knowing doubting her bothered the girl. He also knew very well Potter and Weasley hadn't given her a blow-by-blow description while she eavesdropped. She looked a little taken aback by his tone, but not cowed.

"You first," she snapped back.

"It's what I would have done," Draco told her sleeping out of the bed and grabbing his curtain from the front of the bed. Granger followed silently behind him. Normally he would have stopped and pressed her, but Potter out ranked his challenges. Besides something told him she would crack sooner this way. Which she did as Draco was holding the Fat Lady's portrait open for her.

"I got it out of Lavender Brown," Granger admitted sheepishly. "She doesn't like me, but she loves to gossip and Pavarti was with her sister from Ravenclaw."

Draco was impressed by the Slytherin thinking and felt pleased he'd gotten it out of her even if his heart was pounding harshly in his throat from worry. As soon as they were outside Draco sat off at a run taking the short cut he'd discovered from his wonderings. He grabbed Granger's wrist to drag her when she began lagging. Considering Granger had no doubt come as soon as the boys had left, they might be able to catch up with them.

They weren't able to get there in time to stop them from going into the trophy room. But to Draco's relief they were able to still alone, though the two of them had Longbottom with them for some reason.

"Draco," Potter and Weasley said startled.

"(_Dumbasses_)." Draco growled in French.

"Neville," Granger said looking at the nervous boy in disappointment.

"Hermione," Longbottom answered looking away guiltily.

Everyone looked at each other startled or guilty, except Draco. He was rolling his eyes. They were such _Gryffindors_. No plan if they got caught, just wearing a cornered animal look.

"We have to leave before Filch gets here." Draco told the knocking them out of their little staring contest.

"No, I have to duel Nott." Potter said, looking defiant with his wand clutched in his grasp.

"There is no duel it's a trick." Draco snapped, nerves taut, his eyes moving back and forth between the two entrances.

"How do we know this isn't a trick to make us leave?" Weasley said stepping towards the front.

Draco threw him a dirty look, but only Longbottom recoiled away. Weasley didn't even flinch, blue eyes determined and bright. Of all the times for them to grow defiant. Draco wanted to feed the both of them to a basilisk, _after he got them away from trouble_.

"Because Purebloods only duel Purebloods." The looks he got were enough to make him scream in frustration. Yet another problem with the company he was being forced to keep. They were completely oblivious to things that Draco had learned before he could walk.

"Do you honestly think I'd lie to you?" Draco questioned looking into Potter's eyes. He saw Weasley blush next to Potter, but focused on the black haired boy. The boy looked torn, distrustful, guilty for being distrustful, but sure.

"You'd lie to make me do what you thought was right." Potter told him, meeting Draco's gaze, his green eyes solemn and confident. They lacked the normal uncertainty Potter had bore since they'd first meet.

Draco wasn't sure how to react to that. It was completely true and even more surprising Potter knew it. 'Any means to achieve their ends' was something Draco and his family lived on. And lying to Potter was definitely acceptable if it got Draco what he wanted.

"Fine." Draco closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Purebloods feel required to duel each other if challenged. If they decline or fail to show up than it is a sign of weakness and an insult to who they're facing. This rule is only ignored when dealing with Muggleborns and blood traitors. They consider you too low to bother with. So challenging you to a duel and setting Filch on you instead is a trick they'd enjoy."

Draco opened his eyes and looked towards Potter. The boy met his gaze and looked reluctant, but hopeful. After a few moments the boy seemed to make his decision. Looking tentative the boy nodded. Draco knew then and there that the boy's life hadn't been very happy if he was still reluctant to trust Draco even now. It was almost ironic the first person he was putting his trust in was deceiving him. Draco relaxed. Ah well Potter's emotional issues didn't matter as long as he was physically well.

"Let's go." Potter said and with a frown Weasley followed him along with a relieved Longbottom who quickly moved to Granger's side. Draco turned Granger pulling Granger gently behind. The girl though clearly thought this wasn't enough and turned snapping brown eyes on Potter and Weasley. Neither looked very happy about her gaze. The Girl opened her mouth, but they never heard what she intended to say. Because out of the shadows a voice came.

"Chickening out already Potter. And hear I though Gryffindors were supposed to be brave." Theodore Nott said, walking into the dark room with an assurance and purpose he'd lacked at the Flying Class. Behind him were two Slytherins, Blaise Zabini green-hazel eyes bright and Pansy Parkinson who resembled a pug that was about to rip a finger off its owner.

Silence met the trio's entrance, though only because Draco was choking in shock and unable to say any of the colorful phrases running through his mind. The quiet dragged as the two groups looked at each other. Only Potter looked awkward not quite at Draco's side with the others, but not away from them. Instead he stood in the empty area in between the area. The boy refused to look scared though and met Nott's dark gaze defiantly.

Draco focused on Potter and Nott. The dark emotion and harshness of those eyes worried Draco. The comparison with how mild and soft Potter's were, was jarring. Draco went cold. For the first time he was looking passed his own emotional turmoil and focusing entirely on the situation outside himself. The world was so fiercely against them and Potter was almost completely unprepared for it. Draco was wrong and now Potter was having his first duel without knowing a single jinx. He felt Granger's wrist gently pull itself out of his grip and them her hand awkwardly squeeze his. If the girl noticed he was nervous than the Slytherins did. Draco straightened and glared.

The Bête, (_fucking bastard_), looked amused and made the first move separating himself from the Slytherins and walking towards Weasley. The red head looked ready to hiss at him and glared as the black boy settled relaxed at Weasley's right. Draco firmly ignored that piece of filth that had, of course, settled to his _left_. Perhaps the Bête simply thought it was an accomplishment to piss off more then one person by simply being within a yard of them.

Potter looked towards them and seemed to steel himself taking a step towards Nott and Pansy. "You were the on who was late Nott, I thought you'd gotten cold feet."

"You wish," Nott said with an unpleasant smile.

Pansy glared at both of them, before leveling an especially hostile look at Draco and Granger. Draco felt the instinctual urge to shed away from the Muggleborn girl, but instead tightened a grip on her hand. Like hell he'd do something just because Pansy Parkinson of all people was upset.

"Let's get started." The girl snapped looking absolutely murderous.

"She wants to kill you." The Bête whispered. Draco ignored him.

"Both duelists step foreword." Pansy said raising her wand and beginning the archaic words.

"-she's been talking about it in the common room. My bets with poison, but judging by what I saw you aren't the one she'd going to kill." The Bête continued seamlessly. Draco tightened his jaw and ignored him.

"-stick out your wand in the air."

"Oh, stop being angry." The Bête said blandly. "I only came because it looked like it would prove entertaining. My loyalties remain where they always have. With myself."

"Do you, Theodore Nott, heir apparent to the Nott family and esteemed King family with all that these names entitle, solemnly swear on your magic that you shall conduct yourself with the honor befitting your bloodlines?" Pansy questioned touching her wand tip to his.

Nott did something unexpected. He looked directly in Potter's gaze and spoke with deliberate slowness. "I do swear upon the Old Magik and my own that I, Theodore Nott, will conduct myself with honor."

Draco stared at Nott. What was he doing? If it had been Draco he wouldn't be allowing Potter to know what to say. He'd embarrass the boy by making sure he didn't. And why would Nott eve agree to the duel. It seemed only to prove he wasn't a fit replacement to Draco's should-have-been position. It was almost a compliment. Draco reeled. In fact Nott was doing honor to Potter by being so respectful. He was acknowledging Potter's bloodlines. But even if he was, Nott was definitely a threat. Nott didn't like Potter, but he was Slytherin enough, or his father was, to not totally alienate the boy that the Malfoys were risking their position and respect for.

"Do you, Harry James Potter, heir apparent to the Potter family," Pansy paused and looked at Potter disdainfully. "and one of the male heirs to the noble Black family with all that these names entitle, solemnly swear on your magic that you shall conduct yourself with the honor befitting your _bloodlines_?"

Draco scowled, but watched Potter as he touched his wand gently against hers. He looked nervous but ready. He spoke slowly, but he didn't stutter. Draco would have been proud if he'd actually liked his charge.

"I do swear upon the Old Magik and my own that I, Harry James Potter, will conduct myself with honor." Potter managed. Weasley looked relieved and nervous. Pansy frowned annoyed. Draco though was worrying now. If they were being this formal than Nott might just be able to shoot more than sparks.

"Will the seconds-" Pansy began.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caught." A horribly familiar voice cackled.

"RUN!" Draco yelled not bothering to try and convince the poltergeist. He ran holding tight to Granger as he did.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed shooting out of the room. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED IN THE TROPHY ROOM!"

Draco heard the others close behind. He turned corridors and halls without thinking. Then he heard footsteps and pushed a tapestry aside hurtling down a hidden corridor. He heard, maybe two others follow him but the rest thundered passed with the unfamiliar footsteps tailing down. Draco didn't stop do and grabbed the nearest door. It was locked. His ears picked up the sound of soft clicking and sniffing, like a cat, down the hall.

"_Merde,_" he snarled. Someone pushed him aside and Draco saw a bush of hair. The lock clicked and they surged in. Draco shut the door when the last one was in. The stood silent frozen. The sniffing passed them and kept getting louder and louder and louder.

"Come here my pretty they've gone to the dungeon," Filch called out and the cat disappeared. Draco sighed with relief and turned to find a sick looking Longbottom, a pale Blaise, and an intense looking Granger.

But that wasn't what made Draco reach for the doorknob. The next second they all stumbled out, Draco tripped landing on the ground and kicking the door shut. He wasn't sure who pulled him up, but he was thankful for it. Draco kept thinking the same thing over and over again as they ran. _A Cerberus. A Cerberus. A Cerberus._

They stopped at the foot of the Gryffindor steps. Draco looked at the panting group. Longbottom looked close to fainting. Blaise's composure was gone and his eyes were wide and wild. Draco didn't doubt he looked the same. Granger was odd though. She looked grimly determined.

"Did you see? It was standing on a trapdoor. It's guarding something." Granger told them. Draco repressed a groan remembering Weasley and Potter discussing a mysterious package. Draco hadn't thought about it much then, but he knew if they connected the package to what the dog was guarding they would do something stupid.

"No one is allowed to tell P-Harry or Ron anything about this. I swear I will poison you if you do." Draco threatened. But mostly it was towards Longbottom. Blaise was a Slytherin and Granger didn't like them, or Weasley at least. Longbottom gulped and looked terrified. Granger looked at him offended.

"I'm going to Slytherin house before you Gryffindors get me killed." Blaise drawled still looking weak.


	10. 9

**AN : Anes muets (Dumb Asses)**

**Rat de bibliotheque (Bookworm)**

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**

**Le Silence de Granger, le Pacte de Weasley**

"**Granger's Silence, Weasley's Pact"**

Draco was not letting the _dumbasses _out of his sight. But neither was he letting Longbottom. Throwing in the fact he didn't want the two groups to meet it lead to a very awkward six days of Draco trying to be in two places at one. Longbottom had seemed terrified at first, but gradually accepted Draco's vigilance.

Granger helped with that, supervising since she didn't trust Draco not to harass the boy. She always appeared out of nowhere when he spent time with Longbottom and helped the boy with his homework. She even, to his not quite surprise, got up the nerve to follow them into the boy's dorms. Seamus Finnegan nearly had a heart attack when he walked in to find her there.

Granger remained rather collected about the whole thing, not showing anything besides a slight blush she quickly hid. The Gryffindors were still shocked from their 'friendship' and finding out their 'study group' only seemed to prove Granger was apparently insane for hanging around the 'pureblooded bigot' and if she wasn't insane she was a masochist. They may be acting bearable to Draco, but they still didn't like him. Not that he tried to make them like him. He might be civil to Longbottom and 'friends' with Potter and Weasley, but the others didn't matter to him. Besides Granger, but she was the only person whose presence he could actually admit to liking. Not that he ever would.

But eventually Draco couldn't be in every place at once.

"What do you mean you told them?" Draco asked nearly a week later. Longbottom looked guilty and Granger, who'd been going over Longbottom's punishment Potions essay with many tuts and red marks, looked at him disapprovingly.

"Honestly, Draco how long did you expect him to keep it secret? Harry knew you were keeping something from him. He's not stupid, he saw how you hovered over Neville and realized he knew." Granger told him as a-matter-of-factly. "Neville's done admirably by keeping silent this long with Harry's constant badgering when you were out of sight. You know they've been doing it every time you serve a detention with Filch."

"_Merde,_" the blonde muttered furiously wishing Granger hadn't mention the detentions he'd been serving an hour every afternoon since the slapping incident. Potter really was proving to be annoyingly observant when it came to Draco and sneaky. Plus Granger seemed to have formed a tentative friendship with Longbottom and was quick to defend him from anything she saw as 'Draco being an arse'. The only positive thing about the day was that Potter was too oblivious to realize Draco disliked him.

Granger rolled her eyes and Draco had to spend the rest of the day dealing with a _disappointed_ Potter who thought Draco should have told him about the dog. Draco eventually stormed off when the Ânes muets started debating what the package could be. At least they, for the moment, didn't seem curious enough or stupid enough to try and conquer the dog. But as far as Draco was concerned them being even slightly curious about a mysterious package a giant three headed dog was guarding was too dangerous for the boy he was stuck protecting.

Draco spent most of the day not-sulking-no-matter-what-he-was-accused-of. He didn't even notice how quiet Granger had been that day or how off. At least not until something shocking happed. He found Granger crying in the library.

…

"Granger?" Draco asked feeling the same way he had when Granger had apologized to him.

The girl looked up and wiped her eyes attempting to hide something behind her back. Draco saw it though, it was a letter. Probably from her parents.

"Oh, hello Draco, do you need something?" she asked primly despite her red eyes.

"We could waste time with this charade or you can go ahead and tell me why you're crying as you would in about three minutes, anyway." Draco told her blandly and the girl snorted. She looked up at him and her lip trembled a bit.

"It's just my birthday's tomorrow and I-I-" She looked about to bawl again. "I just want to be home, I don't have any friends and I'm alone."

Draco felt his stomach drop at that and a curious mix of annoyance, anger, and a feeling similar to melancholy that he didn't recognize at first. Sympathy.

"So what are Longbottom and I dragon's liver?" Draco questioned cooly. Granger actually looked a bit taken aback by his insulted tone.

"Neville likes that I don't make fun of him is all. And you, well you're a prejudice git who was desperate. Otherwise you probably wouldn't have looked twice at the Muggleborn bookworm who everybody hates." Granger said sadly. Draco fought the urge to slap her, _again_.

"Granger do you honestly think I'd waste my time with someone because I am desperate? I am Draco Malfoy I don't need anyone. I decided to grace you with my friendship because you are obviously superior to the rest of the Gryffindor idiots." Draco snapped annoyed at her insulting herself and by extension him who had chosen her. He conveniently ignored the part of him that said he had been desperate.

"And Longbottom practically worships the ground you walk on for helping him with Potions! So what if it started because of that, he likes you because you're nice to him. And I like you because," Draco swallowed hard and barely managed to force the next words. "You make very _lively_ conversations."

Granger snorted. "So Neville likes me because I'm smart and _nice_. And you like me because we argue. What a wonderful trio we make."

"Oh shut it Granger, it's insulting to hear you undermine yourself and if you continue I'll be forced to take action." Draco threatened and the girl rolled her eyes.

"You don't even call me Hermione!" the girl pointed out in disgust.

"So? We've only known each other three weeks. It took me three years to call Pansy and the Bête by their first names." Draco said. Granger rolled her eyes again, but she was smiling slightly.

"And you barely call Blaise by it." Granger said amused. He'd told her his 'pet name' for Blaise recently.

"Exactly, it took him another year to acquire that term of endearment and I gave you one the day we meet Rat de bibliothèque." Draco drawled out pleased by the change in mood. Granger glared at him.

"And you still won't tell me what it means." She said brown yes annoyed. Draco smiled.

"I doubt I ever will," he paused. "Rat de bibliothèque."

They left to get to class, but Draco was still preoccupied with something else. If Granger's birthday was tomorrow he would need to do something about that. But first he would need to find a secret place.

…

Draco was starting to be convinced the school was conspiring against him. He'd found a perfect room, empty and close to the Gryffindor dorms only to discovery it was a preferred snogging place for the prefects. He was also wondering if Hufflepuff knew that two of their male prefects felt that way for each other? Needless to say Draco was a little uncomfortable after a nerve racking hour of waiting for them to finally leave already, while he hid in the closet.

He wasn't even paying attention to where he was walking anymore. He'd been late for his detention, because of being held up by the hormonal Hufflepuffs. As punishment he'd spent an extra half hour scrubbing the trophies while trying to forget the image of the Hufflepuffs. The closet's door refused to close all the way and even when Draco closed his eyes he could still hear.

Draco shivered wondering if he could risk performing a memory charm on himself when he saw the Weasley twins walk out of a wall. Or rather a tapestry. Draco was sure of two things about the Weasley twins. They were amazing pranksters and liked to pretend to be each other to freak people out. He was sure that they'd pretended to be the other for the entire second week of school, but decided not to call them on it. Draco had been happy to ignore them as they were ignoring him, but then disaster.

He accidently told them apart while in hearing distance of them. The twins had been playing a game of making some Hufflepuffs choose which was who and Draco had been working nearby. Weasley and Potter had been amused by the game and watched chatting to themselves. Finally an annoyed Draco had snapped under his breath. "Merlin it's obvious, George is on the right and Fred's on the left." They had, to Draco's horror, heard him and been forcing him to guess who ever since.

But judging by their expressions now was not a time for fun and games. They grabbed him by the arms and quickly dragged him behind a convenient statue.

"Hello there our delightfully Gryffindorish snakey friend." Fred greeted with a grin.

"Lovely day for a walk isn't it?" George chimed in.

"Yes, which is why I'm wondering why we are standing still." Draco said blandly. They bore identical grins.

"Well you see Draco-" Fred began.

"-nobody is supposed to know of our little secret." George finished.

"Which is why we are at a dilemma of how to deal with our snakey little friend discovering it."

"We're sure he won't tell anyone."

"But we need him to understand how important it is to keep this secret."

"One prankster to another." George said seriously.

"I'm hardly a prankster." Draco said blandly and the twins shared a fondly amused look.

"Now Draco darling," Fred chided.

"It's not very nice to lie." George said tapping the blonde's forehead. "If a Slytherin getting into Gryffindor isn't the greatest prank ever."

"Then we don't know what is." The said in unison.

Draco starred at them and shook his head. Gryffindors were so bloody weird. "Yes, well your little snakey friend will keep this a secret if he learns what is behind the tapestry and how to get in."

Friend and George smiled amused and told him. Draco suddenly felt in a happier than he had all day. Well that's one problem solved. Now onto bigger ones.

…

"Dobby do you understand?" Draco questioned seriously. The nervous house elf nodded, but looked incredibly confused.

"But Dobby thought Master Draco did not like Mud-" Draco hissed and the house elf cowered.

"Do not call her that! She is Muggleborn, but her name is Hermione, or for you Miss Granger." Draco snarled. The house elf looked at Draco amazed. The blonde felt uncomfortable under the stare of the house elf who'd been his nursemaid as a child.

"What is it Dobby?" Draco finally snapped annoyed.

"Master Draco has changed." Dobby said awed. Draco blushed and felt annoyed. No he hadn't. Not really anyway.

"Just, just go do what I told you alright?" Draco snapped turning away and fiddling in his bag for homework. When he looked up the house elf's mouth was open. Draco blushed deep red when he realized he'd worded it as an almost question. The house elf seemed to be knocked out of its shock and disappeared.

Draco groaned and fell back on his bed closing his eyes shut. Damn it he really was acting funny if he was _asking_ his servants. Draco didn't like change, especially ones in himself. He hated all of this and wished it was all stop. It was all Potter's bloody fault. Stupid git.

"Draco?" a voice questioned nervously and Draco opened his eyes to find a guilty Longbottom in the doorway of the dorm room. Did that boy have any other expressions besides nervous, guilty and terrified?

"Yes?" Draco growled. The other blonde flinched a little, but wasn't cowed. How unusual.

"Is it really Hermione's birthday tomorrow?" Draco gave him a sharp look. "I heard you talking with your house elf." The boy admitted. Draco sighed and nodded. The boy looked crushed and ashamed.

"I don't have anything to give her." He said despondently. Draco snorted causing the boy to look at him confused. Gryffindors, ever the dramatics.

"How could either of us have got her something if we didn't know?" Draco pointed out derisively, but Longbottom didn't seem to notice his tone merely looking a little less depressed. "Let's worry bout it next year."

Draco froze, but Longbottom didn't seem to notice obviously still taking comfort in Draco words. Had he just implied he would waste his time buying a Muggleborn present? Draco moaned cover his eyes with an arm. Damn it why was he even bothering? An image of Granger crying popped into his head. _So what_, he argued with the image._ We aren't friends are anything._ Draco's mind let that image burn itself there in reply. Great now he was arguing with himself.

…

"For the last time stop worrying, it'll be fine." Draco told her annoyed. The anxious, blindfolded girl turned in the direction of his voice the parts of her face he could see set furiously.

"Not worry the last time I was out after curfew with you I as nearly killed by a three headed dog." She snapped. Longbottom looked at Draco nervously, but wisely kept leading the fuming girl after Draco.

"Cerberus," Draco couldn't resist correcting, getting a huff in response.

"Were almost there anyway." Draco pointed out. Granger's mouth nearly disappeared she was pursing it so thin and Draco wondered if Longbottom also noticed the resemblance to McGonagall.

"Where is there?" the girl hissed bristling. Draco grinned as he tickled the pear and Longbottom pushed her gently inside.

"Here," Draco answered taking off the blindfold. The girl opened her eyes and her anger melted into shock. Draco grinned and Longbottom managed a smile. But then she started crying making both eleven year old boys completely befuddled. She proceeded to hug them shocking them even more.

"Thank you it's lovely." Granger sobbed and the boys shared a look of perfect agreement. Girls.

Draco looked around the room when Granger finally released them still snuffling a bit. The house elves had been happy to help Dobby decorate a section of the kitchen with banners and balloons and ribbons. They'd made a particularly big one proclaiming HAPPY 12TH BIRTHDAY HERMIONE, and decorated a little table with a lace cloth and some of the finest china Draco had ever seen. The house elves were all beaming and Granger's muttered praise as they lead the girl to the corner with Draco and Longbottom following.

Unexpected company arrived when they brought out the cake shaped exactly like an open book. The Weasley twins looked at the first years amused and startled. Granger looked up at the two of them incredibly confused apparently unable to place names to them.

"Hello," she greeted a little timid. The boys grinned ear to ear and approached.

"Were we surprised when we stumbled upon such a fine little party after hours." Fred began with a falsely chiding voice.

"Yes, Firsties out of their beds and sneaking around the school. Completely against the rules." George scolded wagging a finger.

"But not just any Firsties either, but the Golden Girl, our snakey friend and Neville Longbottom." Fred said with mock shock.

"Your point?" Draco asked blandly.

"Well we simply have to report you like the upstanding good students we are." Fred said looking horrified. "Imagine being out of bed at this hour."

"You sound like us." George teased. Draco smirked at them. Weird or not perhaps these Weasleys at least were more bearable than the rest. Definitely better than _Percy_ anyway.

"Want some cake?" Draco offered and the twins shared a look and sat done to have tea and cake with them.

Draco watched the group gradual settle into amiable conversation. Granger looked torn between horror and amusement as the twins recounted some of their pranks. Longbottom simply looked awed and happy. But then Granger laughed and smiled and Draco wondered again why was he doing this. _Because she's the only real friend you've ever had._ Draco stared at Granger and did something that surprised even him.

"Hermione pass me another cup I'm thirsting to death over here." Gran-Hermione beamed and Draco knew that now his life was even more complicated with a Muggleborn girl as his, he might as well admit it, best friend.


	11. 10

**AN: **

**_Ânes muets (Dumb asses) – Harry and Ron_**

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* * *

******

Chapter Ten:

**Nuit d'Effroi**

"**Fright Night"**

After a few days of careful thought on Draco's part, Hermione and he fell into a slightly tweaked relationship. They would still argue and Draco still acted, in Hermione's words 'like a bigoted pig' at times, but he was much more cordial towards her. And now that he'd accepted her as someone of equal importance he felt it necessary to use the manners his mother had taught him were necessary with a lady. Needless to say, Hermione had been shocked every time an embarrassed Draco opened a door for her or offered to carry her things or even, to her horror, felt obliged to scold Weasley, who she was still on horrible terms with, for swearing in front of her.

Hermione blushing bright red had given him a very long talk. She'd been suspicious he was playing a prank on her. Finally Draco, feeling as embarrassed as she looked explained that as a gentleman and an heir to a prestigious family he was supposed to treat a lady, especially one he was close to with a certain respect and decorum. Hermione, after laughing a bit at his expression, asked why he only now started this. Draco definitely did not want to explain he had thought her a lesser being until her birthday, remained silent. To his relief though, she drew her own conclusion.

"You're just like my cousins. It took them until I was eleven to realize I was a real girl." Hermione said amused. Draco agreed instantly with this explanation of not really thinking of her as a _real_ female until now.

After talking a bit more he agreed to tone it down a bit, though blatantly refusing to give it up completely. He may not be a respectable member of Pureblood Society, but he was his mother's son and not willing to incur her further wrath at treating a lady with anything than the right amount of respect.

After a bit Hermione started to accept it with good graces and even amusement, especially when the twins, not passing up such a chance, began to mockingly call him her Honorable Little Knight Errant. Draco ignored this and kept right on opening doors and carrying her things. Potter and Weasley seemed to find his behavior hilarious and enjoyed teasing him about it with the twins. In fact all of Gryffindor House watched his behavior with amusement. Draco decided it was their uncouth, ill-mannered faults' for never being raised correctly. After all Gryffindorks couldn't possibly expect to know the correct way to treat girls. But Draco got some vindictive amusement out of some of the older girls getting mad at their boyfriends for not acting like a 'proper little gentlemen like the sweet little Malfoy boy'. Their expressions of horror were enjoyable.

The only person who didn't seem to react was Longbottom, who Hermione continued to stubbornly help, dragging him to the library every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. Draco followed eager to be away from the Gryffindors and having decided that Longbottom was _slightly_ more bearable than the rest of the lions. Longbottom had been elevated in Draco' regards by not only not teasing him about it, but actually asking Draco if girls liked it when boys did that type of thing. Draco, intrigued by this development began to explain to Longbottom, in front of a very amused Hermione, how exactly you are supposed to treat a lady and how to court one since the boy obviously had a particular one in mind.

Hermione had just snorted and pointed out that Draco wasn't exactly experienced since she was the only girl he ever talked to. Draco pointed out that he'd known Pansy long before Hermione. She was not impressed and said that she didn't think he should brag about any type of relationship with 'that vile Parkinson girl' unless he wanted to give Pansy any false hope. Draco quickly dropped it, shuddering at the thought of Pansy hearing he'd said anything of the sort. He doubted his outcast status would extend to his money.

By the time the day of his last detention arrived Draco still had yet to discover who it was Longbottom seemed amorously fond of. Draco didn't mind though. He had plenty of time to crack the boy. Besides he was in a good mood that day. Hermione surprised them all by throwing their group (Longbottom, Draco, and Hermione) a little party. And to Draco's esteem, was big enough to invite Potter and Weasley, because they were Draco's 'friends'.

It had been nice until Weasley said something catty and Hermione left. Draco had dug into Weasley with a protectiveness that surprised even him. But, damn it, this was his first _real _friend. Weasley apologized for ruining the party, but not Draco noticed for offending Hermione. But Draco decided to forgive the boy anyway, but told him that Hermione was Draco's friend so he'd better learn to accept it. Afterwards things settled into a peace that Draco didn't trust.

By Halloween night he knew he'd been right not to.

…

"Susan Bones?" Draco questioned idly as he pretended to follow Flitwick's lesson. Longbottom looked at Draco with wide eyed panic as the mentioned girl looked over her shoulder curiously. Seeing who had said her name her eyes widened and she instantly turned back to the front. Draco had been amused to find that the Hufflepuffs were always nervous if not scared around him.

Draco had decided to try a more direct approach to find out Longbottom's crush. But the boy was proving more resilient than he thought. Plus he could only do it when Hermione wasn't around and she had an annoying habit of turning up every time he cornered the blonde boy.

"No, please stop," Longbottom begged going a shade of pink that did not compliment the boy's pale hair.

"Well I could," Draco said as if considering it, Longbottom's shoulders slumped and Draco almost smiled. The boy knew him so well it seemed. "If you tell me who she is." Draco finished sweetly, watching as Longbottom's expression fell even more, but didn't look very surprised.

"I can't." Longbottom moaned turning to look at their small teacher, with a despondent expression on his round face.

"Why?" Draco whined, using his best annoying voice that got him what he wanted at home. True it didn't work with Hermione. Or his mother. But Draco had decided that was a female thing.

Longbottom actually gave him an annoyed look. "Because you'll tease me."

"Oh," Draco said feeling amused. "Don't be silly, Longbottom, I'll tease you no matter what. Now who is she?"

Longbottom ignored him, turning to stare determinedly at Flitwick. Draco thought he heard something along the lines of "Persistent bugger." Whispered under the boy's breathe.

"You'll crack eventually," Draco said sure of that fact. Longbottom didn't react beyond a deepening of his frown. Draco rolled his eyes, but found himself smiling.

Draco froze, smile disappearing when he realized it was there. Damn, what now he liked Longbottom too? Draco scowled. It was bad enough he'd gotten attached to Hermione, not that he was complaining about her. But in all honest Draco did not like caring about so many people, it was so tiring. It seemed forever all he'd ever worried over was himself and his parents. Now he cared about Hermione, and Longbottom was an _acquaintance_, not friend, and was responsible for the Ânes muets. Why did Draco have to suddenly start taking in people like strays?

"Mr. Malfoy?" a voice questioned mildly. Draco jumped and realized Flitwick was looking at me. Then, to his horror, he blushed with embarrassment and a bit of guilt. He liked Flitwick a good deal more than the other Professors and always tried his best in the man's class. He had been kind to him when Draco was going through a rough time after all.

"I'm sorry Professor. Could you repeat what you were saying?" Draco asked as contrite as possible.

Flitwick nodded focusing the rest of the class with a quietly chuckling Longbottom beside him. He took back what he thought earlier he did not like the boy. At all. Was that a smirk? Draco wondered darkly as he walked away from class a snickering Longbottom trailing happily behind. Draco looked. Yes, it was in fact a smirk.

"I don't see how Draco stands her." Weasley's voice said as Draco and Longbottom approached. "She's a nightmare. Does she even notice that nobody but him and Neville like her. I bet it's just because she's good at school."

Draco went cold as he saw Hermione get close enough to the Ânes muets to her Weasley's words. Her face filled with surprise and hurt. Draco hissed as he saw tears appear. Draco rushed foreword to either hit Weasley or grab Hermione. The girl took one look at him and bolted, knocking into Potter as he did. Draco ran after her ignoring the Ânes muets he no longer felt deserved to lick the soles of Hermione's shoes. Bastards_._

Draco searched the library first. He knew Hermione considered it her sacred refuge. She wasn't there. He went to the Owlery and found the Hufflepuff couple again. He glared at the shocked boys and told them to get a room if they didn't want to get walked in on and then demanded if they'd seen a brown haired Gryffindor girl. Draco ran off with the taller one shouting after him to not tell anyone.

"Like I bleeding care!" the annoyed blonde snarled. Going through the transfiguration corridor he ran into trouble in the form of Percy Weasley tried to grab him to drag Draco to get to class. Draco told the boy exactly where he could stick his wand, stepped on his foot, and ran to check the Kitchens. He even ventured into the dungeons, tempting the Slytherins who had still remained strangely peaceful towards him. Draco doubted it would last if they found him intruding in their area, but didn't care.

By the time he'd finished searching he couldn't find her and had missed all his classes. Frustrated he headed towards the Great Hall, hoping she would be at the Halloween Feast, and if not he would Drag one of the girls to help him search the girls lavatory. He dragged his feet into the overly cheerful room, to his depressed mind anyway. He only has enough time to see a very furious Percy Weasley stand at the sight of him when he was knocked to the ground.

Looking up, with a merde, he saw a panicked Quirrell running towards Dumbledore. Draco got to his elbows and glared at the man. He was horrified by the man's next words. "Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know." Then he fainted. Draco was frozen in the chaos of the room until Percy gabbed him by the arm and dragged him beside him, shouting at the rest of the Gryffindors as he did.

Draco didn't bother breaking the red head's gripped feeling a bit thankful he hadn't allowed him to be trampled in the stampede for safety. Draco's mind seemed to have gone blank as they continued there fearful journey to Gryffindor tower. Draco was shoved into the nearest armchair so Percy could count the Gryffindors. The portrait shot behind the last one and Draco almost didn't believe it. They were missing three. Judging by Percy's expression he'd realized it too.

"Where's Harry?" Draco shouted, making the loud Common Room go quiet. "Hermione! Harry!"

"Ron!" Percy shouted looking as frantic as Draco felt. Draco knew they weren't there, but couldn't stop asking.

"Where the hell is Hermione?" he snarled looking at the students. There was silence, before a horrified looking Lavender Brown stepped foreword.

"She was still in the girl's bathroom." The girl told him looking awkward. Draco didn't think just lunged for the door. Percy got in front of him. Draco snarled.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, pulling out his wand without thinking. Percy gave him a cold look and the next thing Draco knew something hit him from behind and his mind went blank.

…

Draco paced heart beating harder than it ever had in his life. He'd felt the pain of a thousand deaths, but this was worse. The not knowing gnawed at him. Someone made a sound of annoyance in the back of their throat. Draco gave Percy a withering looked, which the Prefect returned, clutching his wand close. Draco sneered and continued pacing, knowing it annoyed the Prefect and because he needed to do something. Longbottom sat on the couch quiet and gray, with his knees pulled to his chests. The rest of the Gryffindors had been ordered to the dorms, with only the Twins, who were sitting on either side of their brother, Percy, Draco, and Longbottom permitted to stay. Since they were the friends and family of the missing. Percy had stunned him, the dirty bastard.

Draco glanced towards the still portrait and pulled at his hair in frustration. Damn. Damn. Damn. Where were they? What was taking so long? Were they alright? Were they hurt? Was _she_ hurt? The portrait opened and Draco's heart jumped, only to fall at the sight of a haggard McGonagall.

"We've found them-" she began, but Draco interrupted seeing Hermione appear behind the Professor. He was across the room in a second and holding the girl in a second. He pulled her close and buried his face in her shoulder. _Thank you god. Thank you._

"You're okay. You're okay." He didn't realize he was speaking in French until Hermione managed to squeak out, "English?"

Draco didn't bother repeating it and just gave her a little squeeze, before stepping away. He notices Potter and Weasley smiling. Draco felt ice and fire burn his way through his veins. He took a step towards the Ânes muets feeling and anger he'd never felt.

"You dumbasses." He hissed shaking. The boys' eyes widened startled and a little hurt. Hurt were they? What until he finished with them. "What the hell were you thing? Taking on a Mountain Troll?"

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall scolded. Draco ignored her.

"You stupid, foolish, selfish bastards!" Draco continued right on.

Potter opened his mouth. "Don't you even try to talk! Do you even realize what you did?"

"We saved Hermione." Weasley said looking annoyed, but a little cowed by Draco's reaction.

"She would have been safe if not for you being an insensitive jackass." Draco growled. Weasley's mouth dropped.

"You have to think before you do things! Not only do you hurt others, but you endanger yourselves. All of you are only alive because of sheer dumb luck and you were smiling! Think! Do you even know what that troll likes to do to its victims?" Draco asked with deadly venom in his voice. "If squishing them to death doesn't work, than they slowly pull your limbs off like we would flower petals."

"But we saved her." Weasley repeated.

"By endangering yourselves. Did you think about how we'd fill if ou died? That your parents would think? What me or my Mother would feel? Well?" Neither looked at him. Draco sot them a look of pure rage. "Don't speak to me unless it's to apologize for being idiots." He turned around to march to the dorms. He barely saw the absolute shock on McGonagall's face.


	12. 11

**Chapter Eleven: **

**Problèmes**

"**Problems"**

Hermione Granger spent the next agonizing days as a go between. First she would try to convince Ron and Harry to see Draco's point of view. Those two seemed the easier target compared to Draco's icy shell. He was just looking into their best interests, she said in her most persuasive voice. Hadn't they seen how agonized he'd looked when they walked in and the happiness when he realized they were alive? Neither would yield, claiming, with annoying stubbornness, that he was happy about _Hermione_ being alive. To them he didn't look like he gave a damn about rather they'd survived. He was being completely unfair, they snarled out in indignation. Hermione wanted to scream at them in frustration. Even if they had bonded after that near death experience she seriously wondered why she put up with this.

But mostly her anger was because now she would have to deal with Draco. Her enigmatic, hypocritical, and sometimes incomprehensible best friend. Honestly, one minute she was thoroughly convinced he held nothing but disdain for her and everyone else around him. The next she thought he would rip a Slytherin's throat out for giving her a nasty word. It wasn't like she wasn't used to such snippiness and dislike. Hermione had dealt with it her entire life, but Draco always seemed to take it as a personal insult. And as fierce as he was about Hermione being treated respectful, he was just as stubborn, if not worse, in his rightness. Draco didn't seem like someone you could convince of anything. He would get cold and immoveable on some issues. Like Harry's hair (One of the quirks that was truly beyond her.), Hermione having to be treated at least a little special because she was a girl (A mildly out dated and sexist notion which she didn't entirely oppose.), and Harry's safety. That was something he would never compromise on. But she wasn't asking him to compromise, persay, just forgive Harry and Ron.

She knew her arguments were solid. How could he protect them when he was never around? They wouldn't understand what he was doing. This would just cause problems and drive a wedge between them. And they _had_ in fact saved her. But Draco had damnably reasonable responses. Neither of them were stupid, he would counter, though his expression argued against his vehement words. It looked like it pained him. Hermione knew why. She'd looked up what the thing he was constantly referring to Ron and Harry. Dumbasses. At the time she'd discovered this she couldn't help, but agree. Now it just confused her more.

They were just too hotheaded, Draco continued in a calm smooth voice. They need to learn to think before they acted. After all Ron being thoughtless hurt Hermione and in turn, put her in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hermione's response of how could they have possibly known about the troll, had not helped at all. With an almost smug tone, Draco _loved_ winning no matter the argument, he'd pointed out that they were the ones who'd locked Hermione in with the troll. Before Hermione had could come up with an argument, they were going to Charms.

She knew Draco liked Professor Flitwick too much to pay her any attention. So instead of sitting by him to continue it she sat beside Harry, casting Neville, who was seated beside Draco, disappointed glances. She should have known better than to tell Neville the part she'd left out in telling Draco the story. Draco was becoming chummy with Neville and every time she and he weren't together, Draco spent the time that had once been Harry and Ron's with the round faced boy. Neville was a sweet boy and one of her first friends, but Hermione should have known he wouldn't think anything of mentioning it to Draco. Draco was Hermione's best friend after all.

But yesterday had definitely been one of the worst, Hermione thought drearily pulling her cloak tighter around her. She'd decided to take a walk by the lake this morning to clear her mind and get away from the chatter. Draco and Harry had gotten into an argument. Over Snape of all things. Hermione frowned kicking one of the stones in front of her. It landed with a loud _plop_ in the lake that had turned to the color of chilled steel.

Hermione had found Snape a harsh teacher at first, but had felt relatively neutral to the man. But after she'd become friends with Draco that had changed. She no longer could feel neutrality to a man who caused him such pain. Draco had become steadily better at hiding it as the school year went on, but Snape's continued practice of not looking at Draco hurt the boy. She didn't know exactly what had occurred, but he knew Draco had been very close to his godfather and this break in their relationship was terrible to him. Yet he continued to defend the man to the point that Hermione had started to deeply dislike Snape for not seeming to deserve Draco's loyalty. A first for the girl who usual adored or at least respected all teachers. Whatever Draco had done couldn't have been _that_ bad. But, no, Snape couldn't look passed that crooked nose of his.

Hermione felt her face blush with instinctive guilt at the less than flattering thoughts towards a teacher. She shook her head and firmly old herself not to blush. Snape deserved to be thought of meanly. Hermione turned to look over the flat perfection of the lake, mouth set in a decided scowl. Her thoughts went back to the day before. Harry had come back, after his unsuccessful attempt to retrieve his book, with a conspiracy theory over Snape letting in the troll. Hermione had almost felt vindictive enough to agree on principle. Anyone would if they'd spent that day going through a Potions Class with their best friend being emotionally wounded. Her better, and teacher's pet, side had won out though and she couldn't complete accept this. Draco had heard and quickly defended Snape's honor. It had not ended well, resulting in a loud fight in the middle of the Common Room.

"Hermione!" a voice called across the lawn and Hermione spun around to find its owner. Instantly recognizing the familiar face and white blonde hair Hermione fought the urge to look away guiltily for having just been thinking of him. She pulled up a tired smile as her friend came to stand beside her, hair in an elegant mess.

"Hello Draco." Hermione said trying to sound calm and steady as her friend shoved something in her mitted hands. She was surprised to find hot chocolate steaming in a mug. She looked up and her friend gave her an easy smile, which he returned despite the misery in those grey eyes.

"The kitchen elves like me." Hermione took a sip of the drink happy for the excuse to hide her face, knowing he'd see the guilt on it. Not that she had any real reason for feeling guilty. She shouldn't be ashamed about disliking Snape, but something in her still didn't want Draco to know her less than admiring thoughts.

Neither one spoke, but instead of being uncomfortable Hermione found she rather liked the silent companionship. One good thing about Draco, he knew when to be quiet and leave someone to their thoughts. Standing on the edge of the lake the could see Hagrid walking near the Greenhouse and the first owls of the day flying out with their messages or returning for a quick rest before breakfast. Hermione felt the quiet and chill of the morning seep into her bones. She felt small next to the immense forest leaning towards them nearby and the sprawling ancient castle. She turned her eyes to the mountain and admired them for a moment. For a split second she remembered drinking hot chocolate with her parents while camping in the Forest of Dean. She remembered how her father had said he wanted to climb some mountains. Hermione smiled sadly into her cup and felt curious. Not for the first time she wondered what Draco's parents were like.

She was looking at her friend considering how to question him when he sighed. She followed his gaze and saw a few students in the distance. Hermione's fingers curled on her glass realizing how much time had passed and how empty the mug was. Draco stretched his arms and smiled at Hermione.

"I need to get going." He told her plucking the cup from her hands. His face went serious though eyes looking conflicted and a little, she didn't think she was imagining it, disappointed. "Make sure Harry eats breakfast. He can't fly properly if he's starving and heaven knows Gryffindors aren't the most forgiving lot."

Hermione nodded and couldn't stop a sigh of sadness. Draco raised an eyebrow at her forlorn expression. "Can't you three just make up?" she pleaded sadly, not expecting any results. Draco looked honestly guilty for a few seconds, before his face smoothed over to firm stubbornness.

"No, he'll get himself killed if he doesn't learn this Hermione. He isn't a normal wizard. He doesn't have the luxury of recklessness." Draco said seriously. There was an edge in his voice, as if he wasn't just talking about Harry and the words themselves were quite different from his usual explanation. Hermione wanted to ask more, usually would have asked more, but she was learning the less you asked Draco the more he told you when ready. It frustrated her impatient being, but she could accept it, to a point.

"Right," she told him watching as his face went oddly blank. He pulled on a smile, but it looked a tad forced to her. Her eyes began to narrow when he spoke again, distracting her.

"The banner will look better if you charm the pain to change colors. Spectre arc-en-ciel is the best charm for the job." Draco told her mildly and Hermione's mouth opened in surprised.

"Did Neville…?" she began, but his smile, now looking pleased and much truer, grew in response.

"It was my bed sheet. Ron's stupid rat ruined it." Draco sniffed as if offended. "A silk sheet worth Ron's weight in gold, ruined."

Hermione couldn't stop a giggle and then laughter at Draco's indignant expression. Hermione bit her lip to stop her laughter at her friend's expense as they approached the castle. Stepping inside Hermione didn't move watching Draco as he hesitated, hovering nearby instead of running off. His gray eyes flickered over her solemn face and after a moments hesitation he gave her a quick hug. Hermione felt herself blush a little at this. Even if it was just Draco, who she could hardly consider an actual boy, it was still only the second time she'd been hugged outside of her own family. Draco released and turned to run to the Great Hall. He would sit by Neville and there would be a dark cloud that hanging over the table until Draco would excuse himself. Hermione sighed again, feeling more than a little helpless, but shook herself and vowed Harry would eat. Even if she had to force it down his throat. It was the least she could do for Draco after all.

…

Draco now knew he couldn't leave Potter alone even for the boy's own good. When Potter almost died during the Quidditch Match he was quite certain he'd experienced a heart attack at the tender age of eleven. Keeping firmly at his cousin's side at Hagrid's hut Draco felt the urge to finish what Potter's broom had started. Always Severus. The boy didn't even seem to be able to conceive that others wanted to kill him, just because he'd been born. But Severus dislike him a little, a lot if he was being truthful, and it made the man public enemy number one. It wasn't like Draco didn't know why Severus didn't like Potter. He had heard about the Marauders, what little his taciturn godfather had revealed anyway. But he'd also sworn never to repeat the stories. So explain to Potter his father had made Severus's life a living hell was not an option. It was all that Draco could do and feel right by his godfather. So he wouldn't tell even if it meant having to listen to ridiculous conspiracy theories.

"Who else is there, if not Snape?" Hermione snapped, brown eyes blazing. Another horrible thing about Draco's current situation was his brainy friend's insistence in agreeing with his small lunatic cousin.

"A highly advance seventh year who hates him?" Draco drawled, pulling things off the top of his head. "Or maybe, Quirrell?"

Draco was met with disbelieving looks all around. Hermione looked completely disgusted, if not a little vindicated by his lack of likely suspects. Hagrid huffed and shook his head. "Quirrell's even less likely than Snape."

"You're desperate if you think he could have done it," Weasley said bluntly, shaking his head. "We all know Snape's the only one who could have. He's evil. And besides he hates Harry."

"No," Draco protested instantly, smoothing his blond hair back in irritation. "Severus _dislikes_ Harry." If anything they looked more willing to believe Quirrell was an evil mastermind.

Draco decided to clutch at the straw he'd drawn at random and plowed on. "Think about. Severus has been here for years and Dumbledore does trust him. Dumbledore isn't stupid," _Merlin, it is sickening to say that._ "In fact his almost too omniscient most of the time." Draco said unable to resist jabbing the man his parents disliked so much, and who disliked them in return. Nobody seemed to understand rather that was an insult or not, though Hermione was considering it intensely. Draco quickly continued before they could decide.

"Quirrell's new, so he's a wild card. Nobody would suspect him, he acts so meek. Too meek in my opinion to be true. Plus my Mother told me he specializes in trolls and do you honestly think a troll jus—" Draco stopped freezing in place as his mind slowly wrapped around the defense he'd been voicing. Quirrell really was the perfect candidate. He had been the only teacher unaccounted for during Halloween. And he had been the first one to see the troll. Draco didn't realize the concerned looks he was getting as he considered his wild guess. Something in him just told him he was right. Call it intuition or sixth sense, but Draco just felt the rightness of the statement.

A bit mystified Draco excused himself and ran from Hagrid's hut, ignoring Hermione's shout after him. He had to owl Mother and he had to owl her _now_.


	13. 12

**AN: I have an improtant announcement for everyone.**

**I**

**HAVE**

**INTERNET**

**!**

**!**

**!**

**There will finally be regular updates! I am so happy. Also I'll be putting up a poll. I'm toying with a few pairings for when they're older. I might not necessarily use the winning pairing, but I will consider since after this year is still only planned loosely. And if anyone doesn't understand while some pairings are up there it will be explained sufficiently later. Also because of the extra help this will not go past Harry's fifth year. If you read any of my other stories they'll be updated soon also.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:**

**Le Reconquérant Ce qui Se sent perdu**

"**Reclaiming What Is Lost"**

To say Draco was disappointed by his mother's letter was like saying Potter's hair only annoyed him a little. To say he was utterly crushed and unnerved by the four word note and that Potter's hair was his unhealthy obsession, was closer to the truth. He was so nervous and strung out that even Weasley noticed and grew concerned. Draco claimed he was just homesick and couldn't wait until Christmas. It was mostly true. He _was_ homesick. And Christmas was something he longed for. Both for the comfort and home and because what Narcissa had said.

_We'll talk at Christmas._

They accepted it, but that did not help improve Draco's mood. It was a horrible excruciating thought that he had almost two months to get through, before he would get answers. Quirrell's class was unbearable for Draco who was becoming increasingly convinced he was behind things. Neville, who he still sat with every Defense Against the Dark Arts class despite his and Potter's making up, kept trying to get Draco to go to the Hospital Wing. The boy seemed terrified that Draco was having a mental breakdown of some sort. It took an hour to convince the boy he was fine and did not need to see a mind healer. But Neville continued to watch Draco with concern during class.

Normally Draco would find this annoying, but he was actually, though he didn't like admitting it, a bit touched by the boy's concern. Draco enjoyed the quiet, nervous boy and found his presence a balm from the more nerve racking, sometimes bothersome ones of Potter and Weasley. Neville had been his only companion, besides Hermione, during the fight. It was nice to have someone else he'd chosen to be friends with. Neville, by now, seemed quite used to Draco and though he didn't like Draco's sometimes cruel sense of humor seemed to enjoy being around him too. It was something Draco's vanity and pride needed. It was especially nice being complimented on his potion skills, which were by now a delicate subject for Draco.

When the day finally came to go home Draco couldn't stop moving he was so hyped up. Potter's Hedwig had given him a strong nip early that morning when he'd gone to visit Paracelsus. Apparentlyshe thought he was annoying if her chiding eyes and the bruise on his upper arm were any indication. Potter had defended his owl, but Draco didn't push it. He was too focused on getting home to care.

Finally settling in the compartment on the scarlet train Draco calmed down a bit. Allowing himself to relax against the soft train chair. He could be calm knowing with every second this speeding train was moving him closer and closer to his parents. His grey eyes drifted up to Hermione who was smiling at something, the ever shy Neville was telling her about a book on Herbology he'd read. Looking over his female friend, Draco noted that Neville was interested in plants for later use.

Hermione wasn't beautiful per say. Not a rose of a woman like his mother. None of the dark sexy beauty of Blaise's mother. But she wasn't ugly. Simply pretty. Cute even. She was someone his mother would say had to grow into beauty. There were hints of course. Her thick brown hair, was curled into a carefully created wild mane of dark glossiness with a new charm she'd allowed him to experiment on her with. And her brown eyes were very nice, with hints of gold and eyelashes that could easily be darkened and made to look longer. No, Hermione wasn't yet a beauty, still a caterpillar, but she would be a surprisingly lovely girl in her own bookish way.

But Draco knew his parents would not see her potential for loveliness under her exterior. They would not see her sense of humor. Her cleverness and wit. Her stubborn pride in her rightness. Her sense of justice. Her friendliness and kindness. Nor would they see her steel, that despite her moments of weakness at the beginning of the year when she'd felt alone Draco could see. She reminded him of his mother in many ways. That was one of the greatest compliments Draco could give. But his father would not see the woman he loved. And his mother would not see a girl worthy of being Draco's best friend.

All they would see is her blood.

Draco felt the coldness in his stomach increase tenfold when Hermione gave another bright smile. Draco had never doubted his parents were absolutely correct in all their convictions and he'd never broken their Pureblood rules before this year. But he couldn't see how the first person who'd ever liked him without reservations, without double-dealing, someone who saw _him_ and not his father or family, could ever be less than him. Hermione was special. He could no longer see her being beneath him because of her parents. She was a witch wasn't she? And a damn good one.

The thoughts rang blasphemous to Draco, but he also felt a deep ring of fearful joy at thinking for himself. For defending Hermione even if it was just to himself. He wouldn't tell his parents yet. They were still in shock from the changes they'd already made. Let them think Hermione was just someone he was using to gain Potter's trust. It was freeing to finally think that. That it didn't matter who Hermione's parents were.

Looking at Neville his round face warm, gentle, and shyly pleased to have someone listening to him Draco considered. _He's easier to explain to my parents_, Draco thought calmly. He may be a Gryffindor, but he was a Pureblood. Draco considered something now that he'd allowed himself the luxury of thinking of something other than Potter for once.

"Neville," Draco said slowly, the boy jerked a little at the name and looked at him sheepishly. Neville still wasn't quite used to being bumped to first name basis.

"I would like to formal introduce you to my sire as the heir to the Longbottom Family and as my honorable friend." Draco told the boy in his most serious voice. Neville paled and squawked, too shocked to vocalize a reply. Hermione straightened and turned her gaze to Draco demanding an answer. Draco didn't explain waiting for Neville's reply. Blinking at him the other blonde boy cleared his throat looking more than a little petrified.

"I would like to formal accept this admirable invitation on the Longbottom Family's behalf and also recognize the heir to the Malfoy Family as my esteemed friend." Neville swallowed, looking amazed by his own words. "And would humbly request he would agree to be introduced to the mother of my sire and matriarch of the Longbottom Family."

"I am done great honor and happily accept." Draco agreed formally, but with a wide grin. While Neville settled in the chair, sickly pale, Draco turned to explain to Hermione. She looked almost annoyed at bearing witness to yet _another_ time honored Pureblood tradition that she found outdated and silly. Hermione rolled her eyes and scoffed, the whole time looking a bit curious.

"I didn't expect you to know the words." Draco admitted, shocking Neville out of his coma-like state, and feeling a bit insulted by it. His parents weren't monsters.

"My Great-Uncle taught me." Neville told him flushing pink, under Draco's stare. Draco nodded wondering if this was the same Uncle who had all _but_ attempted to murder Neville. And judging from the story Draco had heard that had been a close thing. How Neville's Grandmother could have allowed such a thing Draco did not understand or particularly like.

…

Draco was starting to become honestly concerned about Neville as they made their way through the crowd. After they'd parted ways with Hermione he'd turned from just pale to a sickly ashy grey and looked torn between dying right then and there and simply throwing up. A few yards away from his parents Draco stopped and turned to talk to the boy. It was one thing to introduce his nervous friend, but if Neville was looking like this Draco wasn't sure he wanted him to meet his parents. He was half convinced it would kill the boy. Despite is mild feelings of indignation on his parents' behalf Draco had no intentions of forcing Neville further, especially not when he was about to be reunited with his overbearing grandmother.

"You don't have to meet them." Draco said pulling Neville aside and trying to find the right words. "I know my family has a dark reputation and I know what's said about my Father-" Draco broke of at the stricken look on Neville's face, but forced himself to continue. "You don't have to meet them Neville. I won't force you to and I'm not upset." _Just a little disappointed._ He thought bitterly, remembering his temporary joy at being able to introduce someone he truly liked to his mother and father. He knew they'd be happy he was happy at least, even if Neville wasn't a good pawn or stepping stone. Severus wasn't and they certainly never cut him off.

Neville's face went through a succession of expressions so quickly Draco barely had time to register them. Relief, shame, despair, resignation, anger and finally stubbornness. Neville shook his head and met Draco's gaze determinedly. Draco felt and saw the change in Neville because of whatever decision he'd made and felt oddly proud. Neville was standing perfectly straight and tall, his round face lacking its traditional nervous lack of self-confidence. Draco didn't care about Neville's decision if it could make him look like that.

"I _**want**_ to meet your parents Draco." Neville said with a certainty that made Draco grin. Draco was really starting to enjoy being told no, as long as it didn't have to do with Potter. It was rather quaint and unique for him.

"Glad to hear it Nev." Draco said, feeling oddly inclined to use the affectionate nickname that swam off his tongue. It helped that Neville looked surprised, but pleased at it. Neville nodded wanting to confirm his surety and Draco proudly brought his friend to stand in front of his parents. Before he even opened his mouth he saw their faces clearly for the first time and froze. Not even Neville running into him shook him out of the horror that gripped him tightly.

His father was thin, too thin to look completely healthy and had the same complexion as a corpse. The smile he directed in Draco's direction only made it worse, with the pain behind it. Draco could barely stand to look at his mother. His beautiful, perfect Narcissa stood there cheekbones sharply prominent in a white gaunt face, she looked haggard and worn as if she was Atlas himself with the sky rested on her. Draco didn't realize he was shaking, he was too busy fighting tears at the sight of his defeated looking parents. Swallowing tightly he choked them back and turned to the less painful shocked face of Neville Longbottom. Judging by Neville's expression Draco's emotions were plainly written on his face. He forced them off before turning and nudging Neville foreword.

The moment they caught sight of the boy any semblance of happiness at the sight of their sign drained away making them look worse than before. Narcissa went pale and seemed to tip a bit as if struck. Draco took an instinctive step foreword thinking she would faint, but caught himself when she did. Lucius stared at Neville wide eyed his lips white around the edges. Draco spoke, because it was the only think his stunned and frozen mind could think to do.

"This is my friend Neville." Draco told them feeling detached from the calm voice that spoke. "Neville Longbottom meet my parents."

"Hello, sir, ma'am," in an oddly strangled voice said quietly behind him. Draco turned to check on Neville, in time to see him be grabbed by a fierce old woman in a vulture hat who practically threw Neville behind her wand in hand. Draco was frozen glancing between the hate filled eyes of who could only be Augusta Longbottom, Neville's Grandmother.

When her eyes turned to the shell-shocked blonde they softened a bit and her lips pursed, while she looked him over considering.

"I suppose you're the infamous Draco, I've heard so much about." The woman stated her sharp eyes making Draco want to sneak into the floor. Now he knew why Neville found her so intimidating. Draco looked at his friend and saw he was almost as pale as Draco's mother. Remembering the reasons behind his earlier annoyance with the woman Draco straightened and met Augusta Longbottom's gaze straight on.

"Yes I am ma'am." The older woman raised and eyebrow at the defiance in his tone, but seemed also impressed by it.

"I'm Augusta Longbottom, Neville's grandmother." She replied calmly.

"I know." Draco answered. "I've heard all about you and the Great-Uncle."

There was a brief flash of shame before in her eyes the woman straightened and looked over Draco coolly. He refused to back down. Mrs. Longbottom actually smiled.

"Well it's nice to know Neville has someone to take care of him." Mrs. Longbottom said mildly.

"Neville can take car of himself fine." Draco snapped bristling. Narcissa's hand shot out and grabbed Draco by the shoulder, pulling him close. Draco didn't take his eyes off the small old woman. Mrs. Longbottom was staring at him again. Finally though her eyes moved onto Lucius. Draco felt ill seeing him. The man was drawn in, haggard looking. He also was pointedly looking away from the woman. Mrs. Longbottom sniffed and turned her fierce eyes on Narcissa. Narcissa met her glare for defiant glare, filling Draco with an odd sort of pride and camaraderie. Neither he nor Narcissa would back down to this old woman.

"Hello Augusta." Narcissa said smoothly. Mrs. Longbottom twitched furiously, but looked a tad more respectful.

"That'll be Mrs. Longbottom to you." Neville's grandmother snapped, but continued. "I suppose this means we'll be seeing a lot of each other if our boys continue to get along."

"Quite." Narcissa agreed and with a long stubborn stare Mrs. Longbottom looked away to Draco.

"Thank you Draco, I've heard you and Miss Granger helped my boy in Potions." Mrs. Longbottom told him softly and with a nod to Narcissa turned to leave. Neville smiled at Draco sheepishly and Draco shrugged as if to say what-could-Neville-have-done. Neville relaxed as did his smile and went to follow his grandmother.

Draco looked up to his parents, but before he could question them on what had just happened his father pulled him into a hug. Draco was lost instantly as he was passed back and forth between his parents. All he could think of as he looked at them through blurry eyes was the fact that he was really going home again. Smiling up at his father Draco realized something odd. With Mrs. Longbottom gone his father looked happier than he had all summer. Somehow Draco thought that had less to do with Draco coming back and more to do with something other. Narcissa smiled and opened her hand so Draco could touch the hairbrush they were using for a Portkey.

…

The next few days were of breathless wonder at discovering his home all over again. Draco relished in walking through the house noting to himself the most insignificant details he'd forgotten. Like how he'd thought that rug was a smidge lighter shade or how the library had more light than he remembered. Walking into each room was an adventure in itself and a welcomed reminder that he was home, where he didn't have to pretend to like anybody. Draco was so consumed with his joy at rediscovering his home he didn't notice his parents nervous energy until Christmas Eve. And then he just assumed it was because of the holiday and finally having him home. He found out the real reason Christmas Day shortly after he'd finished opening his presents. Lucius had led Draco into his study where Narcissa was waiting and proceeded to give Draco the most shocking revelation he'd been given since he'd learned of his Life Debt.

"The debt does not specify which of Lily's blood we have to protect. Obviously her son would be preferred, but it seems any close blood relative would do." Lucius told him expression glowing with joy. "I've located her Muggle sister's family. I've looked up other cases similar to ours. Protecting her nephew will be sufficient to satisfy the old magic. We will have to play nursemaid to a Muggle, but we'll have our lives back."

Draco nodded looking at his father's eager expression and his mother's solemn one unable to fully accept what he was hearing. He felt cold. Lucius frowned.

"Draco, you don't look very pleased. Don't you realize how wonderful this news is?" Lucius questioned seriously grey eyes probing. Draco nodded too numb to speak. Narcissa looked at him with knowing blue eyes. She turned away and gently touched Lucius's shoulder.

"We need to give Draco time dear, so he can process the news and come to his decision." Narcissa said softly. Lucius looked like he would protest, but took one glance at Draco and nodded.

"It's alright Draco. You are dismissed to your room. Take as long as you like, we'll be waiting." Draco nodded looking at them blankly and got shakily to his feet. He left the room. He blinked realizing he was in his room and couldn't remember the walk there. Draco barely managed to get to the bed before collapsing.

He took a deep breath and let it out. He kept repeating the process until he could breathe easily and didn't feel like he would faint any second. His father had done it. He'd found a way to escape the Life Debt. Draco would have felt impressed at the pure Slytherin cunning it would have taken to discover a loophole in Old Magic if he wasn't in shock. I've been doing this a lot lately, Draco noted mildly. Going into shock. It really couldn't be good for his mental well being.

Slowly he decided to eat. He remembered learning somewhere food helped you when you were in shock. Maybe it would help him think better. Draco was working automatically as he summoned a house-elf and politely requests a small snack. He barely noted that he was being so courteous to an elf, but didn't spare it any thought except hoping it didn't have a shock induced heart attack in the middle of his room. Soon the food appeared on his bed. Draco told the air thank you since there was no house-elf to speak to and began eating. He was surprised by how much the warm broth he ate really did help. By the time he'd half finished he was feeling again and his emotions were in mayhem.

Part of him felt triumphant at the thought of no longer having to put up with the Gryffindors actions. He could let out his Slytherin side without concern Potter's reaction. And his vengeance would be very sweet. But despite these wonderful emotions most of him felt empty at the thought of breaking off with Potter.

All his hard work in helping the boy gone to waste. He was certain without his guidance Potter, and Weasley since they were a set, would fall into abominable habits. They wouldn't eat properly he was sure and he doubted they'd dress as well without his hounding. And there schoolwork. They had no work ethic and their work would suffer without him forcing them into studying and redoing their work until he was satisfied. In fact without him there to explain it, they'd lose the hard earned spots he'd helped them get in the top fifteen of the year. Draco allowed himself to remember both boys' stunned expressions when McGonagall had informed them of their accomplishment. The woman had even smiled. Potter and Weasley had insisted on celebrating and had been walking on air the next few days, despite the Twins teasing about Ravenclaw tendencies.

Draco started when he realized he was smiling. Draco shook it off and the implications it held and thought of more important things. Like what this would mean for his relationship with Hermione. He would definitely be forbidden to be with her ever again. Draco felt something hard in his throat and forced himself to consider it. Besides losing his first friend, there wouldn't be any other extreme loss. He'd probably be able to hold onto Neville because of the boy's blood status.

Draco made himself picture what his life would be if he went through with Lucius's plan. He would give up Potter and go back to the Slytherins. True he would have to bear the shame of scarlet colors, but Draco was confident he could work his way back to undisputed Prince of Slytherin. He could circulate a story of using the boy. He'd simply been doing his duty by trying to find out how a child could defeat the Dark Lord. He'd tell them his mother's theory of Lily Potter evoking Wild Magic by sacrificing herself. They would accept it and Draco. Draco would marry a respectable Pureblood witch. Not Pansy, he'd make sure of that. Perhaps Daphne Greengrass, she'd been kinder than the other Slytherins. Then Draco would proceed to live the life he'd always wanted. Surely that should make him happy. Shouldn't it?

But it meant going back to those stifling rules. Draco cringed. He'd tasted freedom and didn't fancy going back. It would also mean no Hermione. Draco couldn't think of not having her around anymore. It actually hurt him. More than he could possibly imagine. She was his best friend and this would be a betrayal of her. Draco buried his face in his hands.

_Snap!_

With a scream Draco fell from his bed in a heap. Leaping back up he saw a horrified Dobby staring down at him holding a lumpy package wrapped in silver paper. Draco stared and suddenly realized this must be a gift from someone. Draco had sent Dobby to hand deliver the gifts for the others. Draco stood awkwardly and smoothed his clothes. He quickly grabbed the package and ordered the house-elf not to punish itself for surprising him. Dobby nodded, teary eyed, exclaiming Draco's infinite kindness and quickly disappeared. Left alone Draco looked down at the package and stiffened when he recognized Hermione's hand writing on the paper taped to the silver wrapping. Warily he read it.

_I know it's a bit rough, but it was my first try. It would have been worse, but my Grandmere helped me untangle it. __Don't laugh__. It was the only thing I could think of. The colors are appropriate I think. Both seasonal and for the symbolism._

_Love,_

_Hermione Jean Granger_

Draco opened it to find a rather messily knitted green and red scarf. Draco blinked back the burn in his eyes and gently wrapped it around his neck. It was very warm. Looking back down at the note Draco made his decision.


	14. 13

**AN: Here it is a new update after almost a year to the day.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Le Jeu Commence**

"**The Game Begins"**

"Hermione!" Draco couldn't resist shouting happily as the girl entered the Great Hall. He'd arrived yesterday and had been waiting impatiently for her, or Neville whoever got there first, return ever since. If he'd been forced to spend one more minute listening to theÂnes muets and their conspiracy theories he would have gone insane. Hermione smiled at him, but rolled her eyes at the unusual enthusiasm. Potter gave Draco an exasperated look that made Draco sure the boy knew exactly why Draco was so happy to see the girl.

"Hello Draco," Hermione greeted, but paused as she took in his appearance. She was instantly beaming. "You're wearing my scarf!"

Draco shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, but was pleased she was happy. Potter and Weasley shared a look that seemed to say _Oh, know it makes sense._ Draco couldn't blame their surprise at his garment, Draco wasn't exactly one to wear something less than pristine and well made. This would be the exception though. They settled down to discuss what they did over break and Draco was curious to discovery that Hermione's grandparents were a quite wealthy French couple and even more that their names sounded familiar.

"Did you say Bonnefoy?" he questioned instantly. Hermione jumped a little in surprise, but nodded eyes brightening with curiosity.

"Why?" the girl asked.

"It sounds familiar." Draco admitted, but shrugged it off to think of later. "It's probably nothing."

Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but decided against it and began demanding rather they'd finished their break homework. Draco tuned it out, toying with the end of his scarf as he brought out Neville's gift to read. _A Thousand and One Cosmetic Charms_ by Aphrodite Dove. Potter's soft groan told him when he noted the title. Draco smirked. They began whispering conspiratorially to each other, used to Draco ignoring them if he read. Draco paused though when he recognized a name. Nicholas Flamel. Draco slammed the book down startling the trio and starred at the wide eyed.

"What does Flamel have to do with anything?" Draco demanded going cold with half formed terror. The Trio shared and alarmed look at his reaction.

"Hagrid said that what Fluffy was guiding was between Nicholas Flamel and Dumbledore." Potter told him slowly watching him with wary green eyes. Something clicked within Draco. The Dark Lord was weak. Quirrell had been to Albania. Quirrell was likely serving the Dark Lord and tried to kill Potter. Nicholas Flamel the Alchemist creator of the Philosopher Stone, The Philosopher Stone granted immortality. Suddenly the troll made a lot more sense. It was a distraction. The Dark Lord was using Quirrell to get at the Philosopher Stone.

"Draco," Hermione said tentatively touching his shouldered. He stiffened feeling a gaze on him. Dumbledore and Severus were eyeing him carefully. Draco looked away quickly, knowing better than to look them in the eye. Hermione repeated his name and Draco looked across the table at Potter realizing his first real test to protect him had just begun. Draco swallowed and spoke.

"I can't talk here. Follow me." Draco whispered it and moved his mouth as little as possible. For all Draco knew Dumbledore could read mouths as well as minds. Draco stood and walked. He was just barely surprised to realize the others didn't hesitate to follow him. Finally they settled in the trophy room.

"This is serious." Draco told them slowly trying to find the best words despite his panicked state. Weasley looked annoyed.

"We've been serious since the beginning!" the red head snapped. "It's serious trying to stop Snape-"

Draco snapped. "This isn't a joke! _They're trying to kill Harry! _And take the Philosopher's Stone! Stop accusing Severus without proper evidence I know the man better than you ever bloody will so shut the hell up Ron and let figure out a way to keep the three of you alive for the rest of the _**fucking**_ year!"

The three Gryffindors stared at him horrified as if they were just starting to realize that someone was really out to kill them. As if up until know it had been a puzzle. Potter looked less shocked than the other two. His green eyes were shadowed in a way Draco found pissed him if for some reason and made him suddenly want to know what Potter's home life was. Parents murdered or not someone didn't get eyes like that unless their home wasn't exactly welcoming. For the first time Draco wondered what exactly Potter's home life was like. He would think of that later, he decided looking at the three pale faces in front of him.

"We don't do anything until I hear from my mother." Draco told them. "She'll need to hear about this. It changes everything." Weasley looked instantly upset.

"We can't tell your Mum!" he protested blue eyes wide with horror. Draco went still and gave Ronald Weasley the coldest look he could muster. Ron flinched.

"Why not?"

"Well because we can't." Weasley said weakly cringing in the face of Draco's offense on his mother's behalf. Suddenly Draco considered something.

"Why haven't you told anyone about your suspicions?" Draco questioned, the three of them looked at him the same way he pictured they'd look if he sang a sonnet about his nonexistent undying love for Percy Weasley. They didn't answer preferring to share a look with each other.

Draco gritted his death and looked heavenward. It was obviously a Gryffindor thing to try and take all the problems you found onto yourself instead of passing them onto someone who could actually do something. Not that Draco would have much confidence in Dumbledore since he'd brought the Stone here in the first place. He hadn't considered it before, but it screamed trapped. Did the old man _want_ the Dark Lord to come here? Draco's heart stopped for one second. When it started he was shivering away from the ruthless coolness it would take for someone to try and lure they Dark Lord into a school of kids with now guarantee they wouldn't get killed when he went after it.

"Are you sure we should talk to your Mum?" Weasley questioned weakly. Draco looked at the three assembled in front of him and nodded. Hermione and Weasley still looked uncertain, but Potter looked oddly calm.

"Draco's right Narcissa will probably know what to do or at least help us. She is a fully fledged witch after all." Potter told the others soothing their ruffled feathers instantly. The three may trust Draco, but it was clear who their leader was. Draco didn't spare that much though, passed how useful it would be if he needed them to do something.

…

_Draco,_

_Burn this as soon as you've read it. Throw the ashes in the lake._

_We will talk face-to-face. The day after the Quidditch Game go to your Common Room at three in the morning. By then the others will be asleep to exhausted to stay up. I will meet you._

_Your Mother_

…

"What are you doing Mr. Malfoy?" Draco froze at the familiar monotone and looked up knowing a painful hope was in his chest and possibly showing on his face. He couldn't stop himself from confirming it though. When he saw it was Severus he tried to put on a mask, but he could tell from the sudden blankness of the man's face he'd caught what Draco was feeling. Draco wanted to kick himself.

"What do you mean Professor Snape?" Draco questioned calmly stinging on the inside in ways he didn't know was possible. He emphasized the title, knowing by the use of his surname that his Godfather was truly done with him it seemed. Draco refused to keep up struggling with useless hope on top of everything else.

Severus dark eyes pore into his and he calmly nodded towards the lake. "What are you doing here instead of eating lunch in the Great Hall with the rest of the hellions?"

"Not hungry." Draco replied and was relieved Severus didn't see him with the ashes. He rested the urge to try and wipe his hands without looking like he was wiping. It was a Gryffindor-ish move and one Severus would spot. He didn't even dare curl them up to cover the ash that clung there. If he didn't draw attention they wouldn't be noticed.

Severus didn't speak though for a few moments Draco thought he might. When he didn't and just stood there Draco stared out at the lake bitterness welling up in him. What had he done to deserve this? He'd defended Severus at every turn, refused to acknowledge he was ever hurt by his Godfather's behavior. But Draco was only human and though he didn't like thinking it, Draco was just a kid. A kid who'd been betrayed by an adult he trusted.

"Please leave." Draco whispered refusing to look at him. He didn't so Draco sat down by the lake and hunched his shoulders foreword wrapping up his knees to silently show he was refusing Severus's presence.

"I have been worse than a fool." Severus said behind Draco. Draco went still not because he was speaking, but because he could actually hear regret in Severus voice. "I have been even worse than childishly cruel. I have been my father."

Draco doubted anyone else would have understood what such an apology meant, but Draco understood very, very well. Lucius and Severus had not had much in common when they met except for one unfortunate fact. The both hated their fathers because they were the type of men who deserved to be hated by their children. Instead being scared of dark creatures when he was little, Draco had been terrified of his grandfather. He'd been relieved the man had died when he was five and his father had barely been able to force upon a mask of calm he'd been so overjoyed by the news. Draco didn't turned even when he felt a soft hand touch his hair in a brief farewell. The apology didn't make things right between them but it was certainly a start.

…

"Please tell me you at least got a hit in." Draco begged carefully cleaning the blood off Weasley's face. The red head shook his head dejectedly and Draco couldn't help, but sigh in disappointment. Neville though looked oddly thoughtful. Draco had missed the fight between Nott and Weasley, having gotten stuck next to the Hufflepuffs, because arrived too late to get seats. The Hufflepuff Prefects behind him were unbearable, well Prefect. During the times he'd walked in on them he'd always assumed they both were, but it turned out the little one wasn't, he was apparently just popular and respected enough to be treated like one. The two boys, well the little one, the tall one didn't show much emotion, kept shooting him anxious glances. Draco decided that some almighty being had to be working against him to constantly throw him in this particular couple's path.

"I think Nott hates you Ron," Neville said looking at Weasley curiously. Weasley rolled his eyes and snorted.

"You think." The boy sneered. Draco growled and the expression disappeared, Weasley looked at Draco warily. Draco was the only one allowed to sneer around here. Slytherins copyrighted the expression.

"No, I mean he doesn't go after the rest of us, mostly just you. Hermione or Harry would be a lot easier targets and his family doesn't really have anything particular against you do they. Nott just hates you." Neville elaborated, making Draco pause. The words had merit. Even Weasley looked a little taken aback.

"Your right, I mean even Draco makes more sense, you know him being a, er, traitor and all." Weasley pointed out oddly astute. Draco ignored the nervous look Weasley gave at the word traitor too impressed by the halfway intelligent suggestion.

"He wouldn't dare," Draco assured him, passing the handkerchief he'd been using to Weasley. Weasley finished cleaning himself up. "I'm still the Heir too one of the richest Pureblood families in Europe, my father still has Fudge in his pocket, and the Notts are still considered new men."

Weasley looked at him horrified. "When you talk like that you sound so bloody Slytherin it's _disturbing_."

"Slytherin is a perfectly respectable house Ronald." Hermione hissed as she entered the Common Room followed by a rather irate looking Potter. Weasley snorted in disbelief, but changed it into a cough at Draco's glare.

"What's wrong?" Draco demanded looking at Potter now that Weasley had been put into his place. His wide green eyes set in a face that looked paler than normal flickered to Neville with uncertainty, but seeming to decide it was alright he looked back at Draco and sat beside him on the couch. Hermione followed looking nervous, sensing the mood and clutching the book she'd picked up form her trip to the Library as a shield. Neville looked as if he thought he should leave, but noting that Potter seemed to accept his presence stayed. Weasley looked between them all and sighed.

"I was flying my broom over the Forbidden Forest." He paused and when there was silence they all looked at Hermione in disbelief.

"What?" she demanded defensively. "I'll get the story quicker if I scold afterwards." Draco shared a look of stunned amazement with the boys and grinned when Hermione snorted in disgust.

"Anyway," Potter said his matching grin fading. "I saw two people in the forest. One of them was Quirrell and one," he looked at Draco cautiously, making Draco stiffen, knowing exactly who Potter had seen. "Was Snape. Snape was threatening Quirrell. It sounded like he was trying to find out what Quirrell knew about the stuff protecting the Stone. I didn't catch all of it, but Snape said they'd talk again later when Quirrell had time to decide his loyalties."

It was a testament to Draco's influence that nobody instantly accused Snape, then again Hermione was too busy informing a stunned Neville about the situation and Weasley was looking horrified.

"Draco will Narcissa mind us going with you tonight?" Potter asked seriously. Draco shrugged. Right now it didn't matter what his mother wanted, what Potter had over seen told him one thing. One very important thing. Dumbledore knew Quirrell was after the stone. It was a trap.

…

When the flames flickered to life, late in the Gryffindor Common Room Draco almost cried he was so relieved to see his mother's face. Narcissa only looked at Draco briefly; she was clearly stunned to see the others there. Her frown wasn't encouraging, but her lack of protest, told Draco she accepted it must be necessary. The introductions were quick, though Neville went a little pale and Narcissa didn't look at the round faced boy for more than a brief glance.

"You must be wary of Quirrell." Narcissa warned them, looking at Harry in particular. "My husband and I have been tracing any rumors of the Dark Lord's whereabouts since his supposed defeat and Quirrell's 'study abroad' took him directly through the Dark Lord's last known location."

"You-Know-Who's alive." Weasley squeaked and it looked like even his freckles paled, Hermione's eyes were wide, Neville wore an unusually dark expression and Potter looked grim, but unsurprised.

"Hagrid said he didn't think Voldemort was dead." Potter informed them quietly, but the words carried a menace that sent a shiver down Draco's spine. Narcissa didn't flinch at the Dark Lord's name, but her eyes did widen briefly in approval.

"Hagrid's right, and I don't doubt Dumbledore knows it too." Suddenly the other three looked terrified. It was one thing to hear suspicions from others, but it was quite another for Dumbledore. Draco did his best to not snort at the outrageous amount of trust the Wizarding World put in the old man's word. But he supposed it could be quite useful. It was the only thing that kept Severus out of Azkaban after all.

"We think the Dark Lord is using Quirrell to get to the Stone so that it can restore him to his body." Narcissa told them and the air seemed to have a chill spread through it. "We think Quirrell acted on his own during the Quidditch Match. The Dark Lord would want to kill Harry himself, but he is still dangerous." Hermione looked faint and Weasley was turning green only Neville and Potter were keeping their cool both grim faced and pale, but calm.

"Quirrell is dangerous and not just to Harry, I want you all to swear to look out for each other. It may be the only thing to keep you alive through the rest of the year."

"But we're just kids." Weasley protested, voice strangled and high-pitched. Potter spoke before Draco or Narcissa could.

"That doesn't matter Ron, Voldemort," Weasley flinched painfully. "Went after me when I was a baby, he doesn't _care_ how old we are."

"Harry's right." Hermione said seeming to reign herself in. Draco felt a slight pang at her being dragged into this, he felt a similar one towards Neville. "And so is Narcissa. We need each other and together our chances are best."

"Miss Granger," Draco's mother's voice cut in. "I understand you are an exceptional witch, able to comprehend and reform complex spells."

Hermione nodded looking a little surprised at being addressed.

"I need you to learn healing charms and spells. They're some of the most difficult magic and you are the only one who currently has enough of a grasp of Transfiguration to accomplish them. This will be a very dangerous year and with you doing this we might just survive it." Hermione nodded again, looking grave struck silent. Draco supposed the true seriousness of the situation was finally hitting her.

Last Narcissa turned to Harry. Her expression softened a little, but remained stern. "I know about the troll and I can't have you bursting in wands firing. You may not have had anyone there for you before Hogwarts, but now you have me, Lucius, Draco, and your friends. You are too important to all of us to risk your life without thinking. You must to promise to stay out of this."

Potter looked reluctant and touched his green eyes looking disturbingly shiny. Draco prayed he wouldn't cry and he would just agree with Narcissa and that would be the end of it. Potter seemed like the type to keep his promises so it would make Draco's job infinitely easier.

"Fine." Potter agreed finally. "I promise."

"Good." Narcissa said and gave her good-byes. Draco's was the shortest good-bye but most meaningful. His mother looked at him with a worry and concern that chased away any thought of jealous over the softness she'd displayed before Potter. Then she was gone leaving Draco alone with the Gryffindors.

They were quite and as Draco looked them all over he decided it had finally became real to them. There was a Dark Wizard out to kill Harry loose in the school. This wasn't just some clever mystery. Draco was grimly pleased at the change he saw in them, the soberness and terror. They needed the shock to realize this wasn't just a game. It was a game they could die in.


End file.
